Listen, I lay these roses on thy path
As petals by a summer wind are blown.
Why are thy gentle eyes so full of wrath?
I, as a wind, am nameless and unknown,
And lost and hidden in a width of sky.
What know you but a rose — a song — a sigh?

And would I were a wind, that I might claim
A wind's invisible, elusive flight,
And so might lay my heart on thine like flame,
Or fly to thee upon some golden night,
All passionate and fragrant from the South,
And crowd my soul upon thy crimson mouth.

Dream that I am a wind: then come and beat
With thy white wings along my wind's demesne.
Innumerably on thy passing feet
Wild kisses will be rained from lips unseen,
And hurricanes will toss thee to and fro,
Like thistle-down or like a flake of snow.

Dream that I am a wind: then come and pass
On pinion thro' the gentle, loving air,
So gentle that it will not sway the grass,
So loving, it will swoon among thy hair.
Come, stretch thy holy wings, and glorify
The clouds becalmed upon this breathless sky.

Listen, I lay these roses in thy hand,
As waves in some tumultuous moment lift
And lay salt sea-weed on the silver sand.
Thou canst not scorn me, neither give me shrift;
For in the multitude I hide from thee,
As waves moan back and mingle with the sea.

And would that I had Kharma in a wave;
Then to thy feet my rising tide would bring
Red coral from some cold untrodden cave
Where black leviathans are slumbering,
Or purple tangle like a mermaid's tresses,
From desolate melodious wildernesses.

O, dream I am a wave: then, thundering,
My passion will make music in the surge;
Or tremulously, softly, slowly sing
In ripples on the ocean's silver verge;
Or keep brave silence, and let shells alone
Whisper its secret in an undertone.

Dream that I am a wave. O lady mine,
O lady mine, how I will flash the sun
Into the deepness of those eyes of thine!
How I will gather moonbeams one by one,
And bind them in a heavy golden sheaf,
And roll them to thee over rock and reef!

Is love so cheap? O lady, canst despise
One who would stand and love thee from afar?
Finding his guerdon in thy happy eyes,
Glorying in thee as in some white star?
Let me be to thee as a wind or wave:
To sing about thy path is all I crave.

O lovely, scornful woman that thou art,
Laughing into the shadow where I stand,
Rejoice that one should lay an unknown heart
So absolutely in thy heedless hand:
Rejoice in my great unknown love, and wear
These roses on thy breast and in thy hair.