What Can I Give Thee Back, O Liberal And Princely Giver, Who Hast Brought The Gold And Purple Of Thine Heart, Unstained, Untold, And Laid Them On The Outside Of The Wall For Such As I To Take Or Leave Withal, In Unexpected Largesse? Am I Cold, Ungrateful, That For These Most Manifold High Gifts, I Render Nothing Back At All? Not So; Not Cold, But Very Poor Instead. Ask God Who Knows. For Frequent Tears Have Run The Colours From My Life, And Left So Dead And Pale A Stuff, It Were Not Fitly Done To Give The Same As Pillow To Thy Head. Go Farther! Let It Serve To Trample On.