How oft, dear Watson, hath thou said
Nor wilt thou the fond boast disown
Thou wouldst not lose thy Sherlock's love
To reign the partner of a Throne.
And by those lips which spoke so kind!
And by this hand I press'd to mine!
To be the Lord of wealth & pow'r,
I swear I would not part with thine.
Then how my Soul can we be poor
Who own what kingdoms could not buy!
Of this true heart thou shalt be King,
And serving thee -- a Monarch I.
Thus uncontroul'd in mutual bliss
And rich in love's exhaustless Mine
Do thou snatch treasures from my lips,
And I'll take Kingdoms back from thine.