Page:Poems and lyrics of the joy of earth.djvu/166

Rh Hear, then, my friend, madam! Tongue-restrained he stands Till words are thoughts, and thoughts, like swords enriched With traceries of the artificer's hands, Are fire-proved steel to cut, fair flowers to view. Do I hear him? Oh, he is bewitched, bewitched!
 * Heed him not! Traitress beauties you!

We have won a champion, sisters, and a sage! Ladies, you win a guest to a good feast! Sir spokesman, sneers are weakness veiling rage. Of weakness, and wise men, you have the key. Then are there fresher mornings mounting East
 * Than ever yet have dawned, sing we!