That the treasure I seek you deny,
And the heart of you, soul of you, keep.
III
I would know why you lift your head of a sudden, like this,
And turn it (so finely poised) till the light picks out
The shape of your moulded neck, of your hair so sweet to kiss,
And the line of your forehead and nose and lips that pout.
Now are they blue as night, your veiled large eyes,
But pale fire lights them, fire o’ the moon.
Oh, why do you gasp, with little tangled cries,