For a Picture

(Venus Meretrix)

This much am I to you—
    If I departed out of your house 
         Coming no more at all—
You would wait a while tis true
    You would lift your voice—You would call—
You would take some Lover into your house 
    And be to him all in all.

This much am I to you—
    As I take delight with you in your house—
         And live your love of all. 
I do not hold you true—
    I know some day you will fall,—
A horror will come on your gilded house
    Turning delight to gall.

Yet still I hold to you—
    Living with you at ease in your house
I count the gain not small

      *         *         *         *         *  

When the years shall come to both of us 
    When all old pleasures pall,—
When kisses fail, and we love not thus,
    Nor hold Love all in all—
You will pass away to another house
    Silent and funeral—
You will veil your head in the empty house
    Nor hear me when I call—
Oh woman our Love will go from us,
    Coming no more at all!

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