Then love supplies a purpose and desire, And rests not still till they are at command. Doth one feel weak? Then love doth make him strong. Is one a slave to appetite or care? Then love doth free him from the galling chains. Doth one lack knowledge or attainments rare? Then love spurs on till all of these are gained. Yes love, and that alone, is all I have; But, darling, having that, I offer thee More than all else another man can give, Who hath abundance, and is rich in all Save love, and that for thee, and thee alone. This is my plea. I stand and wait my fate. If thou dost love me, darling, tell me so; If not – but that can never be, I know.
THE ANSWER SHE GAVE HIM
Your note to me, of recent date, Where you are so importunate, Has been received, and I have read, With greatest care, what you have said. I am quite pleased that you can see So much to praise in one like me, And only wish that I could say Nice things in such a pretty way. But, tell me! do you really think That love is better than "the chink?" Why, money rules the world to-day, With strong and unresistless sway! 'Tis little schoolboys talk of love. But as they older grow, improve; While girls, though they be very young, Know better but may hold their tongue. If you have money, then you can Go where you will, and be a man; But if you're poor – a genius, too — Your family can be but blue, While oft you'll wish for food to eat, And for firm friends your heart to greet. You own you're poor, yet ask of me To share a poor man's misery! Why men would be real scarce indeed, Ere I should think to feel the need Of one who nothing has but love! Poor men abound where'er we rove, And I can get one any day: (When rich, pray call around this way). Suppose we loved, and married were, And fortune gave to us an heir, Pray who would nurse and care for it? Who train its mind? who mould its wit? Who'd wash the dishes, cook the food, Do out-door chores, and cut the wood? What buggy rides would I receive? How many friends would to me cleave? And then there's concerts to attend, And other places, that transcend The theaters and balls that now We with unstinted praise endow. Oh, no! don't ask of me to wed A loving fellow, though his head Be better filled with brains than those Who dress themselves in finer clothes: I want a man who's rich in stocks — (D'ye think I'd ever darn old socks?) You talk of love and lovers bold, As though I'd care if icy cold Were heart of him to whom with pride My loving heart I'd fondly tied. I would be rich and nothing care, For I'd have lover's everywhere; And when of one I tired grew, I'd take my pick and love anew. Now don't be angry with me, pray, For what I've written you to-day; You were to me so frank and true I could not well be less to you; So I have said what all must feel, Though some, I know, the facts conceal. Then do not seek just now to wed, But wait until you're rich, instead.