Nothing from unselfish gates comes for thee;
Each struggle, stress, and strain an arrogance-
From tower you may study land to sea,
Yet never hope for high deliverance.
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,"
Coward princes might demand as they doff.
Set your heart closed, for they set but a snare;
Don't dare, darling, or I'll snip strands straight off.
This vault assures your state from sinful souls,
Or monsters, creeping creatures at midnight.
'Twas for you I built tall upon these knolls!
Child, do not tempt my torrid fire ignite.
For shouldst thou fly from here, help halt, thunder,
My wrath shall rend this rude earth asunder.