The Day-Dream: EPILOGUE

So, Lady Flora, take my lay,
    And, if you find a meaning there,
O whisper to your glass, and say,
    ‘What wonder, if he thinks me fair?’
What wonder I was all unwise,
    To shape the song for your delight
Like long-tail’d birds of Paradise
    That float thro’ Heaven, and cannot light?
Or old-world trains, upheld at court
    By Cupid-boys of blooming hue—
But take it—earnest wed with sport,
    And either sacred unto you.