Helen Maria Williams

H
Helen Maria Williams
A Song
I

No riches from his scanty store
My lover could impart;
He gave a boon I valued more —
He gave me all his heart!

II
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To Mrs K____, On Her Sending Me an English Christmas Plum-Cake at Paris
What crowding thoughts around me wake,
What marvels in a Christmas-cake!
Ah say, what strange enchantment dwells
Enclosed within its odorous cells?
Is there no small magician bound
Encrusted in its snowy round?
For magic surely lurks in this,
A cake that tells of vanished bliss;
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