HE GIVES HIS BELOVED CERTAIN RHYMES
 
 FASTEN your hair with a golden pin,
 And bind up every wandering tress;
 I bade my heart build these poor rhymes:
 It worked at them, day out, day in,
 Building a sorrowful loveliness
 Out of the battles of old times.
 You need but lift a pearl-pale hand,
 And bind up your long hair and sigh;
 And all men's hearts must burn and beat;
 And candle-like foam on the dim sand,
 And stars climbing the dew-dropping sky,
 Live but to light your passing feet.