Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
Rondeau à la New YorkRobert Grant
A
With eyes of brown that pass compare,
Ere I on bended knee express
The love which you already guess,
I fain would ask a small affair.
Of this world’s goods? Will thy proud père
Disgorge, to gild our blessedness,
A pot of gold?
Some fall a prey to golden hair;
I am not blind, I will confess,
To intellect or comeliness;
Still let these go beside, ma chère,
A pot of gold.