Classic Poem

All my love for my sweet
I bared one day to her.
Carelessly she took it,
And like a conqueror
She bowed the neck of my soul
To fit it to her yoke,
And bridled the lips of Song.
Fear within me awoke,
But Love cried: “Swiftly, swiftly
Bear her along the road;
Beautiful is the goal
And beauty is the goad.”