X “Were I the Poet-Laureate of the Fairies”

Were I the poet-laureate of the fairies,

Who in a rose-leaf finds too broad a page;

Or could I, like your beautiful canaries,

Sing with free heart and happy, in a cage;

Perhaps I might within this little space

( As in some Eastern tale, by magic power,

A giant is imprisoned in a flower )

Have told you something with a poet's grace.

But I need wider limits, ampler scope,

A world of freedom for a world of passion,

And even then, the glory of my hope

Would not be uttered in its stateliest fashion;

Yet, lady, when fit language shall have told it,

You'll find one little heart enough to hold it!