I am waylaid by beauty.

When I can make Of ten small words a rope to hang the world! "I had you and I have you now no more.

Oh, friend, forget not, when you fain would note In me a beauty that was never mine, How first you knew me in a book I wrote, How first you loved me for a written line.

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind; Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave. I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.

But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me.

Ah, I could lay me down in this long grass And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind Blow over me

Night falls fast. Today is in the past.