Card—Victorian, love, gift, poem

Inside: A Gift What's the best thing I can offer As a gift for you to-day? Any present I may proffer You will value it, you say. That is very sweetly spoken, Yet, however that may be, I should wish to choose the token Carefully—so let us see. Shall I send a nosegay, dearest? Ah! the summer flowers are dead, And the leaves are in their serest, And the fruit has lost its red; And, besides, the flowers would perish, Lose their scent, and fade and die; But a gift for you to cherish Should be more than petals dry. Shall I send a pretty present, Something tasteful, something rare? Something to the senses pleasant, Something quaint, or something fair? Yet, perhaps, you would not choose it, If the choice could rest with you, And some day perhaps you'd lose it, Or the thing might break in two. What if I to-day should send you Something of my very own, No one else can give or lend you, No one ask for on a loan— Something that will still be waking When the flowers in dust are strewed? Something far too strong for breaking, And you can't lose if you would. Love I send you, very tender, Everlasting, ever true, That will show you how the sender Thinks and cares and feels for you; And when life is at its dreariest, Or when outside things look grey, May my fadeless present, dearest, Point you to a brighter day! —Harriet L. Childe-Pemberton, 1883