My gentle Anne, whom heretofore,
When I was young, and thou no more
Than plaything for a nurse,
I danced and fondled on my knee,
A kitten both in size and glee,--
I thank thee for my purse.
Gold pays the worth of all things here
But not of love; -- that gem's too dear
For richest rogues to win it;
I, therefore, as a proof of love,
Esteem thy present far above
The best things kept within it.
William Cowper
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-cousin-anne-bodham-on-receiving-from-her-a-network-purse-made-by-herself/
