| IF this importunate heart trouble your peace | |
| With words lighter than air, | |
| Or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease; | |
| Crumple the rose in your hair; | |
| And cover your lips with odorous twilight and say, | 5 |
| ‘O Hearts of wind-blown flame! | |
| ‘O Winds, elder than changing of night and day, | |
| ‘That murmuring and longing came, | |
| ‘From marble cities loud with tabors of old | |
| ‘In dove-gray faery lands; | 10 |
| ‘From battle banners fold upon purple fold, | |
| ‘Queens wrought with glimmering hands; | |
| ‘That saw young Niamh hover with love-lorn face | |
| ‘Above the wandering tide; | |
| ‘And lingered in the hidden desolate place, | 15 |
| ‘Where the last Phoenix died | |
| ‘And wrapped the flames above his holy head; | |
| ‘And still murmur and long: | |
| ‘O Piteous Hearts, changing till change be dead | |
| ‘In a tumultuous song:’ | 20 |
| And cover the pale blossoms of your breast | |
| With your dim heavy hair, | |
| And trouble with a sigh for all things longing for rest | |
| The odorous twilight there. | |