A Man to a Sunflower
See, I have bent thee by thy saffron hair
— O most strange masker —
Towards my face, thy face so full of eyes
— O almost legendary monster —
Thee of the saffron, circling hair I bend,
Bend by my fingers knotted in thy hair
— Hair like broad flames.
So, shall I swear by beech-husk, spindleberry,
To break thee, saffron hair and peering eye,
— To have the mastery?