I
"What with clangour, clangour of iron din,
Do they beat till daylight ring?
What heat, that I see the night air spin,
And sparks dance over the scaffolding?
"The birds have flown because of their strife
Hammering difficult metal;
Their reek has taken my roses' life,
Dripping white petal on petal.
"What glows gold taller than earthly tree
In that maze of mast on mast
Of the scaffolding? What can it be
They build so secret and fast?"
II
"What art mooning at, fool?
Some wanton boy and his limbs?
Such dreams should be put to school:
I'll chasten these fleshly whims!"
He has shot the bolts on her room
In the brazen tower.
"Remain there, ninny: your doom
Till the sand sifts your last hour!"
With eyes grieving on space,
Has she sight among all these blind?
Because of her dreaming face....
How harshly the great keys grind!
They have gone. She clenches her hands,
She struggles and makes soft moan....
Then smiles, for she understands:
The soul is never alone.
III