She reigns beside the waters yet in pride. Like to a queen in pride of place, she wears The splendour of a crown in Radcliffe's dome. Save to one man, and unto God. Only to feel this night's great heart, only to mark The splendours and the glooms, brings back the patriarch, Who on Chaldean wastes found God through reverence. And all the things of beauty burn With flames of evil ecstasy.
Thou poisonest the fair design Of nature, with unfair device.
The minstrel of mine epitaph. Live Death, wherein the lost soul cries, Eternally uncomforted. Divine, to the Divinity. All the breathless night is faint, All the flowery night is fair. Philomel her joy or plaint Sings, and sings, and sings again.