Poetry Archives

All that I had I brought,
   Little enough I know;
A poor rhyme roughly wrought,
   A rose to match thy snow:
All that I had I brought.

Little enough I sought:
   But a word compassionate,
A passing glance, or thought,
   For me outside the gate:
Little enough I sought.

Little enough I found:
   All that you had, perchance!
With the dead leaves on the ground,
   I dance the devil’s dance.
All that you had I found.