O Lady, my Lady, I long for your speech,
All typed up and laughing, or serious, in reach;
In reach of my soul and the strings of my heart,
To pluck them and quiver me, love-wings to start.
Yea, start me to flying in lightness again,
Who now am so leaden mid lead words of men,
Forsaking all poetry, music and song—
Because they know football and think they are strong.
Strength of your beauty—know only I;
Come to me, lover, clasp, and let’s fly!