Page:Foliage, various poems.djvu/52



, sweet young blood, that makes the heart

So full of joy, and light,

That dying children dance with it

From early morn till night.

My dreams were blossoms, hers the fruit,

She was my dearest care;

With gentle hand, and for it, I

Made playthings of her hair.

I made my fingers rings of gold,

And bangles for my wrist;

You should have felt the soft, warm thing

I made to glove my fist.

And she should have a crown, I swore,

With only gold enough

To keep together stones more rich

Than that fine metal stuff.

Her golden hair gave me more joy

Than Jason's heart could hold,

When all his men cried out—Ah, look!

He has the Fleece of Gold!