(Dedication : " To Laelia ")

THE amber-golden moon at summer's ending

Guerdoned our pathway by the surgeful sea ;

With lighted sand your wayfaring was blending

Shade mystery.

Upon a stream rose-red with sundroop's blazing

Idly we scattered rose-leaves, white with red :

And in white cohorts came, while we were gazing,

Stars overhead.

So pale a green of Spring on forest towers....

Dew falling from fluttered wings of songbirds.

Dark hair glistered with the orchard-petal showers.

How vain these words.