A Poet to His Beloved

　　I bring you with reverent hands

　　The books of my numberless dreams，

　　White woman that passion has worn

　　As the tide wears the dove-grey sands，

　　And with heart more old than the horn

　　That is brimmed from the pale fire of time：

　　White woman with numberless dreams，

　　I bring you my passionate rhyme.