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Edith Nesbit - The Gift Of The Gods
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"GIVE me thy dreams," she said, and I 
    With empty hands and very poor, 
Watched my fair flowery visions die 
    Upon the temple`s marble floor. 


"Give joy," she said. I let joy go; 
    I saw with cold, unclouded eyes 
The crimson of the sunset glow 
    Across the disenchanted skies. 


"Give me thy youth," she said. I gave, 
    And, sudden-clouded, died the sun, 
And on the green mound of a grave 
    Fell the slow raindrops, one by one. 


"Give love," she cried. I gave that too. 
    "Give beauty." Beauty sighed and fled; 
For what on earth should beauty do, 
    When love, who was her life, was dead? 


She took the balm of innocent tears 
    To hiss upon her altar-coal; 
She took the hopes of all my years, 
    And, at the last, she took my soul. 


With heart made empty of delight, 
    And hands that held no more fair things 
I questioned her--"What shall requite 
    The savour of my offerings?" 


"The Gods," she said, "with generous hand 
    Give guerdon for thy gifts of cost-- 
Wisdom is thine--to understand 
    The worth of all that thou hast lost!"
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