Classic Poem

Gentlemen came wooing me
From north, east, west and south,
And each was afire
With quick desire
With a hot kiss on his mouth;
And there was never joy for me
From this dun, dull democracy.

My King, O my Delight!
Who is so strangely dear,
Kiss me not to-night,
Kiss me not for a year.
Let us live lonely days,
Keeping a holy fast,
Walking rough hilly ways,
So that we meet at last,
Near fir-trees on a height,
In still, kind, perfect night.