Your Riches’—taught me’—Poverty.
Myself’—a Millionaire
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 ’tis 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’—
Altho’ I prove it, just in time
Its distance’—to behold’—
Its far’—far Treasure to surmise’—
And estimate the Pearl’—
That slipped my simple fingers through’—
While just a Girl at School.

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