Ballatetta

The light became her grace and dwelt among Blind eyes and shadows that are formed as men; Lo, how the light doth melt us into song: The broken sunlight for a healm she beareth Who hath my heart in jurisdiction. In wild-wood never fawn nor fallow fareth So silent light; no gossamer is spun So delicate as she is, when the sun Drives the clear emeralds from the bended grasses Lest they should parch too swiftly, where she passes.