Mackerel Sky

I ride, ride,Through the spotted sunlight of an April forestDown a pathway bewildered with crocus cups,The wind dallies with the plume of my helmet.I ride, ride,Seeking those adventures to which I am dedicate,Determined, but without alertness,Ungraciously ignoring the salutations of the young, jocund leaves.

Lady,Far as you are from me in distance of place,I know you yet farther off in good will of heart.Wherefore,Although I make a brave show in armour of green and carnationRivetted with the flowers which are called "you-love-me-not" of white and yellow,And on my shield a waning moon in a field of azure,I am gayer in my colours than in my heart.