Seven stars in the still water, And seven in the sky; Seven sins on the King’s daughter… Deep in her soul to lie. Red roses are at her feet,

In a dim corner of my room for lon… my fancy thinks A beautiful and silent Sphinx has… through the shifting gloom. Inviolate and immobile she does no…

I stood by the unvintageable sea Till the wet waves drenched face a… The long red fires of the dying da… Burned in the west; the wind piped… And to the land the clamorous gull…

The Thames nocturne of blue and g… Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre—coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill an… The yellow fog came creeping down

I have no store Of gryphon—guarded gold; Now, as before, Bare is the shepherd’s fold. Rubies nor pearls

Christ, dost thou live indeed? or… Still straightened in their rock—h… And was thy Rising only dreamed b… Whose love of thee for all her sin… For here the air is horrid with me…

O beautiful star with the crimson… O moon with the brows of gold! Rise up, rise up, from the odorous… And light for my love her way, Lest her little feet should stray

The oleander on the wall Grows crimson in the dawning light… Though the grey shadows of the nig… Lie yet on Florence like a pall. The dew is bright upon the hill,

The apple trees are hung with gold… And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold… The wild goat runs across the wold… But yesterday his love he told,

From his childhood he had been as… knowledge of God, and even while h… saints, as well as certain holy wo… his birth, had been stirred to muc… his answers.

Where hast thou been since round t… The sons of God fought in that gr… Why dost thou walk our common eart… Hast thou forgotten that impassion… His purple galley, and his Tyrian…

Oft have we trod the vales of Cas… And heard sweet notes of sylvan mu… From antique reeds to common folk… And often launched our bark upon t… Which the nine Muses hold in empe…

The Gods are dead: no longer do w… To grey—eyed Pallas crowns of oli… Demeter’s child no more hath tithe… And in the noon the careless sheph… For Pan is dead, and all the want…

Like burnt—out torches by a sick m… Gaunt cypress—trees stand round th… Here doth the little night—owl mak… And the slight lizard show his jew… And, where the chaliced poppies fl…

The sin was mine; I did not under… So now is music prisoned in her ca… Save where some ebbing desultory w… Frets with its restless whirls thi… And in the withered hollow of this…