Your Riches — taught me — Poverty.

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.