Some ladies love the jewels in Love's zone, br And gold-tipped darts he hath for painless play br In idle scornful hours he flings away; br And some that listen to his lute's soft tone br Do love to vaunt the silver praise their own; br Some prize his blindfold sight; and there be they br Who kissed his wings which brought him yesterday br And thank his wings to-day that he is flown. br My lady only loves the heart of Love: br Therefore Love's heart, my lady, hath for thee br His bower of unimagined flower and tree: br There kneels he now, and all-anhungered of br Thine eyes grey-lit in shadowing hair above, br Seals with thy mouth his immortality.