I gave her gifts of the mind, I gave her the sectet signs that's known
To artists who have seen the true gods of sound and stone.
And word nor tint I did not stint for I gave her poems to say
with her own name there and her own dark hair
like clouds over fields of may.
Surely the whole verse just says that he gave her everything he had to offer; all the secrets of art and the efforts of his poetry for her, close up and personal. The next verse goes on to say that this didn't work. All this wonderful arty stuff was wasted on a pleb, no matter how beautiful she might be.