'GIVE me thy dreams,' she said, and I <br />With empty hands and very poor, <br />Watched my fair flowery visions die <br />Upon the temple's marble floor. <br /> <br /> <br />'Give joy,' she said. I let joy go; <br />I saw with cold, unclouded eyes <br />The crimson of the sunset glow <br />Across the disenchanted skies. <br /> <br /> <br />'Give me thy youth,' she said. I gave, <br />And, sudden-clouded, died the sun, <br />And on the green mound of a grave <br />Fell the slow raindrops, one by one. <br /> <br /> <br />'Give love,' she cried. I gave that too. <br />'Give beauty.' Beauty sighed and fled; <br />For what on earth should beauty do, <br />When love, who was her life, was dead? <br /> <br /> <br />She took the balm of innocent tears <br />To hiss upon her altar-coal; <br />She took the hopes of all my years, <br />And, at the last, she took my soul. <br /> <br /> <br />With heart made empty of delight, <br />And hands that held no more fair things <br />I questioned her--'What shall requite <br />The savour of my offerings?' <br /> <br /> <br />'The Gods,' she said, 'with generous hand <br />Give guerdon for thy gifts of cost-- <br />Wisdom is thine--to understand <br />The worth of all that thou hast lost!'<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-gift-of-the-gods-2/
