What shall I give you, woman dear ? 
Kiss for your eyes, pearl for your ear, 
Praise to requite you, 
Toils to delight you, 
Or trophies that shall leave your name 
Canopied by outlasting fame ? 
Ah no ! much less ! 
Give me, give me faithfulness ! 

Kindness I'll give -- with sovran care 
Harbour you like some temple fair, 
With care that shields 
Your way through fields 
Flower-soft, and makes the wise of ages 
Only your ministers and mages ...
Nay, would you bless ; 
Give me, O give me faithfulness ! 

Take this instead -- this throbbing rose, 
Passion, whose cloudy cups disclose, 
Core within core, 
Sea-and-moon-lore, 
And the breath of lovers, whose exchange 
Of being and worship still is strange . . . 
Fair it is, yes . . . 
But give, O give me faithfulness ! 

'Tis true, you came with silvery zone 
All the world's dayspring in your own ; 
True that you gave 
All he could crave ; 
True, on your bosom warm and pure 
His children smile in sleep secure ; 
But no ! Ask less -- 
He will not give you faithfulness.