But there were pleasant ways to walk
Among sure-footed things.
She walks content, her hand in his;
But neither of them sings.
Cantares
I
Sweet, my sweet!
Was I a fool to show you the sky—
Then strap my wings to your feet?
II
But there were pleasant ways to walk
Among sure-footed things.
She walks content, her hand in his;
But neither of them sings.
Cantares
I
Sweet, my sweet!
Was I a fool to show you the sky—
Then strap my wings to your feet?
II