Gold is thy hair, -- a heart of gold is thine,
Golden thy voice whose strains last night I heard,
And in my veins, the quickened blood was stirred
As one is stirred by warming of new wine.
Sing on, raise into words your golden bars.
And men shall hear and bless you for your song.
And they shall write these words of you erelong.
This maiden's soul hath wings that mount the stars!