I can but give thee unsubstantial things...

I can but give thee unsubstantial things

Wrapt as in rose-leaves between thought and thought,

No gems or garments marvellously wrought

On ivory spools with rare embroiderings.

Nor for thy fingers precious, fabled rings

That cardinals have worn, and queens have bought

With blood and beauty. I have only sought

A song that hovers on illusive wings.

Accept from me a dream that hath no art,

I give my empty hands for thee to hold,

Take thou the gift of silence for my part,

With all the deeper things I have not told.

Yet if thou canst, decipher in my heart

Its passions writ in hieroglyphs of gold.