Ulfhada

Ulfhada dwells on the wind-worn down; 
Her feet are bare and her hands are brown; 
Her sunburnt bosom and throat are bare 
Under the cloud of her dusky hair. 
She goes as light as a withered leaf 
That has not tasted of joy or grief, 
Her heart is wild as a wandering bird 
Come overseas at the blithe spring's word. 

None may take her with net or lime; 
She goes as free as the breath of thyme: 
She will not sing and she will not nest, 
She will not perch like a tamed wood-quest. 
How shall we take her? who shall tame 
This woman that bears the gray wolf's name? 
Shall we take her by forces or by treason win 
Her to the cage we would have her in? 

The cage has wires of the beaten gold,
Walls of glass that she lie not cold — 
Seed in a vessel of crystal clear — 
Hither Ulfhada! the nets are here. 
Nay, I'll ha' none of your crystal and gold,
Empty-handed I'll seek and hold: 
You're wild, Ulfhada, and wild am I, 
Stay for me, turn to me, answer my cry! 

I will give you pleasure and give you pain: 
You shall go unsheltered through storm and rain. 
You shall thole scorn for me, you shall feel fear: 
I shall hurt you and love you and cleave to you, Dear. 
Does not my blood to your warm blood speak? 
My breast to your breast, and my lips to your cheek? 
I hold you not, but you are not free,
For my soul to your soul says "Follow me." 

And your soul to my soul answers and says: 
"I am yours to hold through the nights and days; 
The days for labour, the nights for love: 
The dusk underfoot, and the lights above." 
Who shall hold shadow, and who shall bind 
The wandering water, the wandering wind? 
Who shall lay hands on the homeless flame? 
Ulfhada and I, we know his name.