A Virginal

No, no! Gofrom me. Ihave left her lately. I will not spoil mysheath
with lesserbrightness, For mysurroundingair hath a newlightness; Slight
are herarms, yet theyhave bound mestraitly And left me cloaked as with a
gauze ofaether; As withsweet leaves; as withsubtle clearness. Oh, Ihave
picked upmagic in her nearness Tosheathe mehalf inhalf the things that
sheathe her. No, no! Gofrom me. Ihave still theflavour, Soft asspring
wind that's comefrom birchen bowers. Green come the shoots, aye April in
thebranches, As winter's wound with hersleight handshe staunches, Hath
of thetrees a likeness of the savour: Aswhite theirbark, sowhite this
lady's hours.