Dyed In Wool

It has to be deeply personal, you said As if the sun is not so Nor the moon As if the verdant lane Fenced in by memories of you and me And the lonely jackal on distant moor Are enough to create human mystery When through shimmering haze the moon is full The web is shut, the famous mistletoe has dripped its cool, A weak and trifling heart will peep out silently To whimper at the startling beauty Singed and dyed in many splendored wool