The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.

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

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

Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.

You nor I nor nobody knows Where our daily-taken breath Vanisheth and vanisheth: Where our lost breath’s flying goe… You nor I nor nobody knows.

With swift Great sweep of her Magnificent arm my pain Clanged back the doors that shut m… From life.

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.

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,

Force and bluster? Mighty threate… Scorn I lightly, - Not for these. Tell me when shall great Orion Catch the flying Pleuades?

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

Guardian Of The Treasure Of Sol… And Keeper Of the Prophet’s Armo… My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but

Never the nightingale, Oh, my dear, Never again the lark Thou wilt hear; Though dusk and the morning still

For Aubrey Beardsley’s picture Pierrot is dying: Tiptoe in, Finger touched to lip, Harlequin,

Madonna, Madonnina Sat by the grey road-side, Saint Joseph her beside, And Our Lord at her breast; Oh they were fain to rest,