Байрон-Would that I be a glove upon that hand
Would that I be a glove upon that hand,
That essence mine would touch each gentle strand,
Each golden tress that whelms an aspect dear,
A wistful vision from a far, yet clear…
As a star of heavenly realm,
Thy form arrayed in silk doth sail…
A mighty tempest’s veiled by the calm
And only eyes reveal thy hidden tale…
‘Tween verses of that tale would I dwell,
And seek no other in this mortal world.
Though path is fraught with danger fell,
I shall endure fear and cold,
To find thy sprite’s enchanted dell…
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