She wore a feather bower

She wore a feather bower
Lay upon the ground
To me it wasn’t a great mystery
To me—was her crown?

Had my princedom, my esprit
This empted hour
A puppeteering clown
Wouldn’t be my only power...

For all my minions around
Like a wind chime
In the garden of her hair
I’d doubt, forbear

Too kiss and love begrime
My time to her care
A sunset I’d supplant...
New kingdoms there!