Faith is the conquering angels' crown;
Who hopes for grace must ask it;
Look shrewdly ere you lay me down;
I'm Portia's leaden casket.
The following verses were found within:
Fair lady, whosoe'er thou art,
Turn this poor leaf with tenderest care,
And—hush, oh, hush thy beating heart;
The one thou lovest will be there.
Alas, not loved by thee alone,
Thine idol ever prone to range;
To-day all thine, to-morrow flown,
Frail thing, that every hour may change.
Yet, when that truant course is done,
If thy lost wanderer reappear,
Press to thy heart the only one
That nought can make more truly dear.
Within this paper was a smaller envelope containing a one dollar bill, and this explanation of the poet's riddle:
Fair lady, lift thine eyes and tell
If this is not a truthful letter;
This is the (1) thou lovest well,
And nought (0) can make thee love it better (10)
Though fickle, do not think it strange
That such a friend is worth possessing;
For one that gold can never change
Is Heaven's own dearest earthly blessing.