I say : The heart rent him as he looked on this, And were't not that my Lady lit her grace,
Smiling upon me with her eyes grown glad,
Then were my speech so clad That Love should mourn amid his victories.
Smiling upon me with her eyes grown glad,
Then were my speech so clad That Love should mourn amid his victories.
Pound-Ezra-Umbra-The-Early-Poems-of-Ezra-Pound