To Rosamund

You did not come to love me but to look,
Finesse me with the fineness of your eyes,
To paste me in the pages of your book
To sum me and to measure me for sighs.
You did not dance with me but danced alone
To serpentine a path around my lust
Insinuate to pulverise my bone
And mingle me with John and Herod's dust.
You did not want a part but me entire
A victim burnt to you as sacrifice
That you might warm your heart before the fire
And dare the heat to liquefy your ice.

Princess beware!  Your eyes did not divine
A heart in me that's colder far than thine.

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