Endymion

Your hair was like a honey-coloured flame Seen through a veil of silver when you came And took me in your arms that winter night … The moonlight, amorous of your golden hair, Toyed with it softly, as a woman might With some bright treasure, delicate and rare.

O, young Endymion, risen from the dead, Born once again to beauty, O bright head! The moon stoops low to kiss you, as of old; Stoops graciously from her great throne of pearl, With outstretched arms mysterious and cold … But you have left her for a mortal girl.