My heart from the underworld

Rides the bright sea-foam upcurled;

My heart suns in air between

Medlar-pear and nectarine;

Terrors run to me at dawn

Tamer than the velvet fawn;

Not to me hath Love denied

His great star of eventide.

Fate, where is thy splintered spear

Met me in the tourney year?

Once thou wert in overthrow,

Then I laughed, and let thee go.

Wouldst thou yet make sport of me,

Find me kingly, fervent, free!

Though there come the foreordained,

In thy city have I not reigned?