Ne'Ra Crowns Me With A Purple Wreath That She With Her Own Dainty Hands Did Twine; Gold-Hearted Blossoms And Blue Buds In Sheath, Mingled With Veined Green Leaves Of The Wild Vine. Then, Bending Down Her Bright Head, Ah, Too Nigh! She Asks Me For A Song: The Daylight Dies: The Song Is Still Unwritten: Still I Lie Watching The Purple Twilight Of Her Eyes. I Am Her Laureate; Therefore Heart Of Grace I Take To Kiss Her. Where Was Song Like This? Love Is Best Sung Of In A Loveless Place, For Who Would Care To Sing Where He Might Kiss?