New Moon Through Glass

He shall wrap himself in a many-colored cloak
Where the moon shines horned through Castle Crystal.

And if the Queen walks quietly in to greet him
Beside the bubbling vat of her wide hall,
Let him remember how he forced a passage
Through gold flames and white blizzards and black fogs,
Leaving his corpse three times at the wayside
With a death melody vibrant in all ears.

And if she sets a harp between his knees,
Lays both his hands to the strings, and laughs,
Let him render her the courtesy of silence:
Hers is a love far beyond human song,
That three times without flinching took his life.