Richard Doddridge Blackmore

* * *

Love, and if there be one,
    Come my love to be,
My love is for the one
    Moving unto me.

Not for me the show, love,
    Of a gilded bliss;
Only thou must know, love,
    What my value is.

If in all the earth, love,
    Thou hast none but me,
This shall be my worth, love,
    To be cheap to thee.

But, if so thou ever
    Strivest to be free,
’Twill be my endeavor
    To be dear to thee.

Hence may I ensure, love,
    All a woman’s due:
Comforting my true love
    With a love as true.

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