Poem Found Here: "For a Poet" by Countee Cullen
This poem has so many repeating lines. The first two lines and the last lines repeat: "I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth, / And laid them away in a box of gold;" Furthermore the repetition of the same rhyme of -th and -ld words hit hard and are jarring.
For a poet, there's cynicism.
This poem is not the passing of the torch -- those types of gift poems where the speaker writes it like a commencement speech. Yes, the speaker's dreams are in silk and in a box, but note the separation of the dream into a beautiful containment -- the flow of -th.
Where long will cling the lips of the moth
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
I hide no hate; I am not even wroth
Who found the earth's breath so keen and cold,
The following two lines has a nature image of the "lips of the moth," but the moth doesn't serve as a beautiful metaphor to coincide with the silken cloth -- rather antagonistically. Even thought the moth's cocoon is silk, the moth itself is the unpretty byproduct. "Long" in that line isn't a determinate of time, rather the emotion of want. It seems (although a bit of a stretch) the moth is burying itself in such beauty.
So much is buried that "I hide no hate; I am not even wroth / Who found the earth's breath so keen and cold." Even though the "hate" is not hidden what is hated is hidden; furthermore, anger is hidden against the physical breath that's keen and cold.
So when the lines repeat, "I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth. / And laid them away in a box of gold." The dreams are protected from the outside reality and metaphors. They are kept internal, but beautiful.