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Written by Ezra Pound
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Servant and singer, Troubador
That for his loving, loved each fair face more
Than craven sluggard can his life's one love,
Dowered with love, "whereby the sun doth move
And all the stars."
They called him fickle that the lambent flame
Caught "Bicé" dreaming in each new-blown name,
And loved all fairness tho its hidden guise
Lurked various in half an hundred eyes;
That loved the essence tho each casement bore
A different semblance than the one before.
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