Galanterie

O angel, that in some unmeasured region Keepest the store of beauteous things unsaid! Once more do thou take even from their legion Verse of the sweetest, verse no man hath read; And go with that—saying thou art from me— Unto my Love wherever she may be; And speak therewith all tender things and fair Touching the beauty of her eyes and hair, Her hands, her feet—all of Her thou may’st see, E’en to the jewels she shall chance to wear.

As to her eyes, I think thou shalt have reason Setting the azure of them far above God’s blue of heaven; yea, who shall know thy treason But I who teach it thee and She my love? And therefore, fear thou nowise to express, Touching her hair, how much its every tress Doth shine above all gold that the sun yields And the fair colour of the harvest fields: But scarce shalt thou be slow to praise, I guess, Soon as thou know’st what spell her beauty wields.

And, if so be she cease that she is doing, And give thee welcome for thy verses’ sake, Do thou with some most tender sort of wooing Engage her hand, and cause it to forsake Its silken task or pastime on the lute; For of its beauty thou shouldst not be mute, But celebrate it soon in such a strain Thenceforward it shall be no longer fain To do its lightest toil: so for thy suit My Lady’s whole attendance thou shalt gain.

Then, howsoe’er thou dost behold that wonder, The rare imperial foot of Her my queen; —Yea, if thou may’st but glimpse it nestled under The broidered border of her robe, or e’en If haply, some unguarded hour of rest, Thou hast such bliss as I have never possest, To see that spotless Lady all reclined And through dim tumbled veils with thine eye find Her spirit-slender foot,—then do thy best, And be thou neither faint of heart nor blind!

But so with every spell of piteous pleading, And the full magic that was wont of old To fill my verse and charm all men to heeding, Frame thou thy praise of that thou dost behold— That her most matchless foot shall even start Out of its languishment and take my part, To bring my Love not otherwhere than here, To me, and to the place where she is dear: Go now and do this, if thou still hast art; And I shall wait the while in love and fear.