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Here be shadows large and long;
Here be spaces meet for song;
Grant, O garden-god, that I,
Now that none profane is nigh,—
Now that mood and moment please,—
Find the fair Pierides!
825. Urceus Exit
Triolet
I intended an Ode,
And it turn'd to a Sonnet
It began à la mode, I intended an Ode; But Rose crossed the road In her latest new bonnet; I intended an Ode; And it turn'd to a Sonnet.
826. In After Days
Rondeau
In after days when grasses high
O'er-top the stone where I shall lie,
Though ill or well the world adjust
My slender claim to honour'd dust,
I shall not question nor reply.
I shall not see the morning sky;
I shall not hear the night-wind sigh;
I shall be mute, as all men must
In after days!
