The Poetry Corner

An Early Love

By William Henry Davies

Ah, sweet young blood, that makes the heart So full of joy, and light, That dying children dance with it From early morn till night. My dreams were blossoms, hers the fruit, She was my dearest care; With gentle hand, and for it, I Made playthings of her hair. I made my fingers rings of gold, And bangles for my wrist; You should have felt the soft, warm thing I made to glove my fist. And she should have a crown, I swore, With only gold enough To keep together stones more rich Than that fine metal stuff. Her golden hair gave me more joy Than Jason's heart could hold, When all his men cried out, Ah, look! He has the Fleece of Gold!