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.”
John Hall Wheelock
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-122/
