Love-Tokens

I wear around my forehead evermore, The circlet of your praise, pure gold; and how I walk forth crown’d, the approving angels know, And see how I am meeker than before Being thus proud. For roses my full store, Upon a cheek where flowers will scantly blow, Is your lips’ one immortal touch, and lo! All shame deserts my blood to the heart’s core. Dare I display love’s choicest gift--this scar Still sanguine-hued? Here ran your sudden brand Sheer through the starting flesh, and let abroad A traitor’s life; your wrathful eyes afar, Had doom’d him first. Ah, gracious, valiant hand Which drew me bleeding to the feet of God!