math poem

here lies a most beautiful lady
and with the humming bird
sweet splendor
gaily through the fields we danced
the pale day drowses on the western steep
all those treasures that lie
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
beneath my window in a city street
afraid no more, i say
i loved a woman
why do you always stand there shivering
i have heard that a certain princess
i stood