Your riches taught me poverty
Your riches taught me poverty. Myself a millionnaire In little wealths, —as girls could boast,— Till broad as Buenos Ayre, You drifted your dominions A different Peru; And I esteemed all poverty, For life’s estate with you. Of mines I little know, myself, But just the names of gems,— The colors of the commonest; And scarce of diadems So much that, did I meet the queen, Her glory I should know: But this must be a different wealth, To miss it beggars so. I ’m sure ’t is India all day To those who look on you Without a stint, without a blame,— Might I but be the Jew! I ’m sure it is Golconda, Beyond my power to deem,— To have a smile for mine each day, How better than a gem! At least, it solaces to know That there exists a gold, Although I prove it just in time Its distance to behold! It’s far, far treasure to surmise, And estimate the pearl That slipped my simple fingers through While just a girl at school!