Ii

Of honey and heat and weed and wheat The day had made perfume; And Heaven a tower of turquoise raised, Whence Noon, like some pale woman, gazed-- A sunflower withering at her waist-- Within a crystal room.

Said I to Love: “What must I do? What shall I do? what can I do?” Said I to Love: “What must I do, All in the summer nooning?”

Said Love to me: “Go woo, go woo.” Said Love to me: “Go woo. If she be ’mid the rakers, O! Among the harvest acres, O! While every breeze brings scents of hay, Just hold her hand and not take ‘nay,’ All in the summer nooning.”