I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
The woman is so hard Upon the woman.
O Love! what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine!
Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills. Like footsteps upon wool.
Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
I found Him in the shining of the stars.