<h2>VIII</h2>
<p>What can I give thee back, O liberal<br/>
And princely giver, who hast brought the gold<br/>
And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,<br/>
And laid them on the outside of the wall<br/>
For such as I to take or leave withal,<br/>
In unexpected largesse? am I cold,<br/>
Ungrateful, that for these most manifold<br/>
High gifts, I render nothing back at all?<br/>
Not so; not cold,—but very poor instead.<br/>
Ask God who knows. For frequent tears have run<br/>
The colours from my life, and left so dead<br/>
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done<br/>
To give the same as pillow to thy head.<br/>
Go farther! let it serve to trample on.</p>
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