Ah, sweet young blood, that makes the heart
So full of joy, and light,
That dying children dance with it
From early morn till night.
My dreams were blossoms, hers the fruit,
She was my dearest care;
With gentle hand, and for it, I
Made playthings of her hair.
I made my fingers rings of gold,
And bangles for my wrist;
You should have felt the soft, warm thing
I made to glove my fist.
And she should have a crown, I swore,
With only gold enough
To keep together stones more rich
Than that fine metal stuff.
Her golden hair gave me more joy
Than Jason's heart could hold,
When all his men cried out--Ah, look!
He has the Fleece of Gold!
Back to William Henry Davies
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.
Comments1Really tugged at my heart strings, this one. Brought back a lot of memories of young, innocent love. Sweet and touching.