Memoirs of Anne C. L. Botta/Largess

Go forth in life, O friend, not seeking love; A mendicant that with imploring eye And outstretched hand asks of the passers-by The alms his strong necessities may move.

For such poor love, to pity near allied, Thy generous spirit should not stoop and wait, A suppliant, whose prayer may be denied, Like a spurned beggar's at a palace gate!

But thy heart's affluence lavish, uncontrolled, The largess of thy love give full and free, As monarchs in their progress scatter gold. And be thy heart like the exhaustless sea, That must its wealth of cloud and dew bestow, Though tributary streams or ebb or flow.