A FRAGMENTAutumn far-off in memory,That saw the crisping myrtles fade!****Aeons agone, my tomb was made,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.Ah, wonderful its portals were!With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,They wrought mine olden sepulchre!About the griffin-guarded plinth,White blossoms crowned the scarlet vine;And burning orchids opalineIllumed the palm and terebinth.On friezes of mine ancient fame,The cypress wrought its writhen shade;And through the boughs the ocean madeMoresques of blue and fretted flame.Poet or prince, I may not knowMy perished name, nor bring to mindYears that are one with dust and wind,Nor songless love, and tongueless woe—:Only the tomb they made for me,With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.
Autumn far-off in memory,That saw the crisping myrtles fade!****Aeons agone, my tomb was made,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.Ah, wonderful its portals were!With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,They wrought mine olden sepulchre!About the griffin-guarded plinth,White blossoms crowned the scarlet vine;And burning orchids opalineIllumed the palm and terebinth.On friezes of mine ancient fame,The cypress wrought its writhen shade;And through the boughs the ocean madeMoresques of blue and fretted flame.Poet or prince, I may not knowMy perished name, nor bring to mindYears that are one with dust and wind,Nor songless love, and tongueless woe—:Only the tomb they made for me,With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.
Autumn far-off in memory,That saw the crisping myrtles fade!****Aeons agone, my tomb was made,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.Ah, wonderful its portals were!With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,They wrought mine olden sepulchre!About the griffin-guarded plinth,White blossoms crowned the scarlet vine;And burning orchids opalineIllumed the palm and terebinth.On friezes of mine ancient fame,The cypress wrought its writhen shade;And through the boughs the ocean madeMoresques of blue and fretted flame.Poet or prince, I may not knowMy perished name, nor bring to mindYears that are one with dust and wind,Nor songless love, and tongueless woe—:Only the tomb they made for me,With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.
Autumn far-off in memory,That saw the crisping myrtles fade!****Aeons agone, my tomb was made,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.
Autumn far-off in memory,
That saw the crisping myrtles fade!****
Aeons agone, my tomb was made,
Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.
Ah, wonderful its portals were!With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,They wrought mine olden sepulchre!
Ah, wonderful its portals were!
With carven doors of chrysolite,
And walls of sombre syenite,
They wrought mine olden sepulchre!
About the griffin-guarded plinth,White blossoms crowned the scarlet vine;And burning orchids opalineIllumed the palm and terebinth.
About the griffin-guarded plinth,
White blossoms crowned the scarlet vine;
And burning orchids opaline
Illumed the palm and terebinth.
On friezes of mine ancient fame,The cypress wrought its writhen shade;And through the boughs the ocean madeMoresques of blue and fretted flame.
On friezes of mine ancient fame,
The cypress wrought its writhen shade;
And through the boughs the ocean made
Moresques of blue and fretted flame.
Poet or prince, I may not knowMy perished name, nor bring to mindYears that are one with dust and wind,Nor songless love, and tongueless woe—:
Poet or prince, I may not know
My perished name, nor bring to mind
Years that are one with dust and wind,
Nor songless love, and tongueless woe—:
Only the tomb they made for me,With carven doors of chrysolite,And walls of sombre syenite,Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.
Only the tomb they made for me,
With carven doors of chrysolite,
And walls of sombre syenite,
Beside the moon-constrainèd sea.