Poems (Campbell)/The Ungenerous, Lerwick

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THE UNGENEROUS. LERWICK, 1813.
I read the language of thine eyes,
 And feel my bosom proudly swell—
I can thy narrow mind despise,
 And all thy little thoughts can tell.

No hoarded stores of gold I boast,
 Nor lands, nor tenements, are mine;
Yet, not for all on India's coast,
 Would I possess a soul like thine!

Then go,—enjoy thy valued wealth,
 And still thy fav'ring smiles refuse:
Kind Heav'n will grant me peace and health,
 And leave me virtue and the Muse.

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