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 —...
Your thoughts don't have words every day
They come a single time
Like signal esoteric sips
Of the communion Wine
Which while you taste so native seems
So easy so to be
You cannot comprehend its price
Nor its infrequency
I.
Your love has penetrated all within me
Like honey plunged into water,
Like an odor which penetrates spices,
As when one mixes juice in ''uncertain''
Nevertheless you...
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