When I set out for Lyonnesse, A hundred miles away, The rime was on the spray, And starlight lit my lonesomeness When I set out for Lyonnesse

Plunging and labouring on in a tid… Dolorous and dear, Forward I pushed my way as amid w… Stretching around, Through whose eddies there glimmer…

Who, then, was Cestius, And what is he to me? - Amid thick thoughts and memories m… One thought alone brings he. I can recall no word

‘If ever I walk to church to wed, As other maidens use, And face the gathered eyes,’ she s… 'I’ll go in satin shoes!' She was as fair as early day

Thirty-two years since, up against… Seven shapes, thin atomies to lowe… Labouringly leapt and gained thy g… And four lives paid for what the s… They were the first by whom the de…

“Thou shalt be—Nothing.”—Omar Kh… “Tombless, with no remembrance.”—… Dead shalt thou lie; and nought    Be told of thee or thought, For thou hast plucked not of the…

WHEN, soul in soul reflected, We breathed an æthered air, When we neglected All things elsewhere, And left the friendly friendless

It was your way, my dear, To be gone without a word When callers, friends, or kin Had left, and I hastened in To rejoin you, as I inferred.

Where once we danced, where once w… Gentlemen, The floors are sunken, cobwebs han… And cracks creep; worms have fed u… The doors. Yea, sprightlier times…

I rose at night and visited The Cave of the Unborn, And crowding shapes surrounded me For tidings of the life to be, Who long had prayed the silent He…

I wandered to a crude coast Like a ghost; Upon the hills I saw fires - Funeral pyres Seemingly - and heard breaking

SHOW thee as I thought thee When I early sought thee, Omen-scouting, All undoubting Love alone had wrought thee—

Between us now and here— Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear Life’s flushest feather— Who see the scenes slide past,

I—The Tragedy She sits in the tawny vapour    That the City lanes have uprol…    Behind whose webby fold on fold Like a waning taper

By Mellstock Lodge and Avenue    Towards her door I went, And sunset on her window-panes    Reflected our intent. The creeper on the gable nigh