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To Vernon Lee

 On Bellosguardo, when the year was young,
We wandered, seeking for the daffodil
And dark anemone, whose purples fill
The peasant's plot, between the corn-shoots sprung.
Over the grey, low wall the olive flung Her deeper greyness ; far off, hill on hill Sloped to the sky, which, pearly-pale and still, Above the large and luminous landscape hung.
A snowy blackthorn flowered beyond my reach; You broke a branch and gave it to me there; I found for you a scarlet blossom rare.
Thereby ran on of Art and Life our speech; And of the gifts the gods had given to each-- Hope unto you, and unto me Despair.

Poem by Amy Levy
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things