Love’s Wealth Poem by John William Inchbold

The white sea-foam still plays on golden shore,
The sun through tears makes many a jewelled bow,
The trees around the home have leaves no more,
Though tenanted by ever cheery crow;
The fragrant hawthorn groves that bloom like snow,
And sometimes shed their blossoms with the wind
Upon the face of wondering flowers below,
Are deeply flushed with fruit, that birds may find
No lack for winter, now not far away:—
The moist and amber leaves keep warm the earth
That it may leap the sooner to the day,
When radiant Spring is born all fresh with mirth:
And I by this fair world enriched, for thee
Such wealth put forth to loving usury.