Tangled Hair
In a dream one sweet spring night,
I mistook the breaking of my hair
Over my pillow
For the sound of a harp-string.
As my tangled hair
Unwittingly touched the strings,
The harp that had been still
For three long spring months,
Sounded a note.
Not knowing love,
I sought beauty in the gods.
But today I see in you
The beauty of heaven and earth.
Tarry a while, O God of Night!
If thy kingdom be far,
I shall send thee home
In the cup of my lip rouge.
19 
