Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,

Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.

As I went, as I went Over the mountains, I heard, I heard, Through cloud-wreath and mist, A hound that was baying -

If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!

Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.

But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!

I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me

A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,

All day, all day I brush My golden strands of hair; All day I wait and wait.. Ah, who is there? Who calls? Who calls? The gold

White doves of Cytherea, by your… Across the blue Heaven’s bluest h… And by your certain homing to Lov… Still to be true and ever true -…

Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?

I have no heart for noon-tide and… But I will take me where more ten… Shakes, fold on fold, her dewy dar… And shelters me that I may weep i… And feel no pitying eyes, and hear…

I make my shroud, but no one knows… So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows… In door-way where the lilac blows,

The morning is new and the skies a… The day cometh in with the sun and… Hasten, belov’ed! For see, while you were yet sleepi… The cool and virgin feet of dawn w…

THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?