For a Poet

For a Poet

I HAVE wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,And laid them away in a box of gold;Where long will cling the lips of the moth,I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;I hide no hate; I am not even wrothWho found earth’s breath so keen and cold;I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,And laid them away in a box of gold.

I HAVE wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,And laid them away in a box of gold;Where long will cling the lips of the moth,I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;I hide no hate; I am not even wrothWho found earth’s breath so keen and cold;I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,And laid them away in a box of gold.

I HAVE wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,

I HAVE wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,

And laid them away in a box of gold;

Where long will cling the lips of the moth,

I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;

I hide no hate; I am not even wroth

Who found earth’s breath so keen and cold;

I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,

And laid them away in a box of gold.

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