Roses can wound, But not from having thorns they do most harm; Often the night gives, starry-sheen or moon'd, Deep in the soul alarm. And it hath been deep within my heart like fear,...
As before, a little while after. The room is empty when the curtain goes up. SOLLERS runs in and paces about, but stops short when he catches sight of a pot dog on the mantlepiece.
The sun drew off at last his piercing fires. Over the stale warm air, dull as a pond And moveless in the grey quieted street, Blue magic of a summer evening glowed....