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A pity beyond all telling is hid in the heart of love.
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
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Sang a bone upon the shore; "A child found all a child can lack,...
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By his command these words are cut: Cast a cold eye On life, on death. Horseman, pass by!
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Eyes spiritualised by death can judge, I cannot, but I am not content.
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