The Poetry Corner

My Love's Gift.

By Juliana Horatia Ewing

You ask me what--since we must part-- You shall bring home to me; Bring back a pure and faithful heart, As true as mine to thee. I ask not wealth nor fame, I only ask for thee, Thyself--and that dear self the same-- My love, bring back to me! You talk of gems from foreign lands, Of treasure, spoil, and prize. Ah, love! I shall not search your hands, But look into your eyes. I ask not wealth nor fame, I only ask for thee, Thyself--and that dear self the same-- My love, bring back to me! You speak of glory and renown, With me to share your pride, Unbroken faith is all the crown I ask for as your bride. I ask not wealth nor fame, I only ask for thee, Thyself--and that dear self the same-- My love, bring back to me! You bid me with hope's eager gaze Behold fair fortune come. I only dream I see your face Beside the hearth at home. I ask not wealth nor fame, I do but ask for thee! Thyself--and that dear self the same-- May God restore to me!