christmas poem

i love to steal awhile away
her face is fair and smooth and fine
did you ever hear of
we were not many
there were three in the meadow by the brook
tell me less or tell me more
with joy and wonder
love me at last, or if you will not
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
glass-blower of time
when the wind works against us in the dark
a pen of steel
the long resounding marble corridors
there are three ways in which men take