Classic Poem

A line of eve o'er the moorland
Lay yellow, & still, & wan:
My steps were turning homeward
With the hern & the wild-swan.

The hern, & the swan, & the plover,
Were quiet with their young:
I heard as I walked belated,
A woman's voice that sung.

She sung of a wild wild passion
For one with golden hair:
And lo, a gold-hair'd lady
Stood full before me there.

She took my hand and led me