Classic Poem

Blue garb fluttering gustily,
Brown hair's eddy adrift,
Thou God's gayest gift,
All folk laugh with thee lustily.

Proud little face and clear
While these merrily love thee
Let me bend, and above thee
Whisper my secret—fear.

Lo, I may not make light of thee
Little child as thou art
I am humbled of heart
Stricken still at the sight of thee.

Something challenges, checks
What would fondle or flout thee
Burning and round about thee
The mystical circle of sex.

Mythical immemorial,
Starry, secret of plan,
Woman: and shall a man
Burn his hands in the aureole.

She as low as a star
Straight with an elfin slenderness
These with a taunting tenderness
I, afraid and afar.