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I have the colour of your hair
Everywhere;
I have your beauty all by heart,
Cannot part
From aught of you—I love you so—
Though I try,
I know I shall not find you though
Till I die.
When I have darkened all the day,
Put away
The world and the world's sights and sweets
—Mere deceits,
The blinding blaze of the false lights
That arise
Between my spirit and the heights
And the skies—
When I have turned from the pale face,
Sickly grace,
Faint hair and hue of heart, thin smiles
That cover wiles
