Page:Poems and lyrics of the joy of earth.djvu/139

Rh She hears him. Him she owes For half her loveliness a love well won By work that lights the shapeless and the dun, Their common foes.

He builds the soaring spires, That sing his soul in stone: of her he draws, Though blind to her, by spelling at her laws, Her purest fires.

Through him hath she exchanged, For the gold harvest-robes, the mural crown, Her haggard quarry-features and thick frown Where monsters ranged.