All day I serve among the volumes telling
Old tales of love and war and high romance;
Good company, God wot, is in them dwelling,
Brave knights who dared to scorn untoward chance.
King Arthur--Sidney--Copperfield--the daring
And friendly souls of Meredith's bright page--
The Pilgrim on his darksome journey faring,
And Shakespeare's heroes, great in love and rage.
Fair ladies, too--here Beatrice smiling,
Through hell leads Dante to the happy stars;
And Heloise, the cruel guards beguiling,
With Abelard makes mock of convent bars.
Yet when night comes I leave these folks with pleasure
To open Love's great summer-scented tome,
Within whose pages--precious beyond measure--
My own White Flower Lady hath her home.
