Lesbia Harford

* * *

I have golden shoes
To make me fleet.
They are like the wind
Underneath my feet.
When my lover's kiss
Is overbold,
I can run away
In my shoes of gold.
Nay, when I am shod
With this bright fire,
I am forced to run
From my own desire.
From the love I love
Whose arms enfold
I must run away
In my shoes of gold.