THE jester walked in the garden: <br />The garden had fallen still; <br />He bade his soul rise upward <br />And stand on her window-sill. <br />It rose in a straight blue garment, <br />When owls began to call: <br />It had grown wise-tongued by thinking <br />Of a quiet and light footfall; <br />But the young queen would not listen; <br />She rose in her pale night-gown; <br />She drew in the heavy casement <br />And pushed the latches down. <br />He bade his heart go to her, <br />When the owls called out no more; <br />In a red and quivering garment <br />It sang to her through the door. <br />It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming <br />Of a flutter of flower-like hair; <br />But she took up her fan from the table <br />And waved it off on the air. <br />'I have cap and bells,' he pondered, <br />'I will send them to her and die'; <br />And when the morning whitened <br />He left them where she went by. <br />She laid them upon her bosom, <br />Under a cloud of her hair, <br />And her red lips sang them a love-song <br />Till stars grew out of the air. <br />She opened her door and her window, <br />And the heart and the soul came through, <br />To her right hand came the red one, <br />To her left hand came the blue. <br />They set up a noise like crickets, <br />A chattering wise and sweet, <br />And her hair was a folded flower <br />And the quiet of love in her feet.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cap-and-bells/
