HANDS, do what you're bid:
Bring the balloon of the mind
That bellies and drags in the wind
Into its narrow shed.
Bring the balloon of the mind
That bellies and drags in the wind
Into its narrow shed.

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,Enwrought with golden and silver light,
Where dips the rocky highlandOf Sleuth Wood in the lake,
The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
I whispered, "I am too young,"And then, "I am old enough";
We sat together at one summer's end,That beautiful mild woman, your close friend,