My Lady

My lady is so wondrous fair,

She needs no flower in her hair,

No precious jewel, silk or lace

To light the splendor of her face.

My lady is encircled round

With zeyphyrs as are only found

Where breaks the faintest fairy-day,

Or tiny children are at play.

My lady is the breath of life

That fills the soul, yet stills the strife —

I crave her love, but stand apart;

She holds the world within her heart.