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She’d have naught of silvery turnings like fish,The Celtic knot of wedded, bedded love.She stole away to the Arans, met a man Not man but fearsome messenger of wishAnd...

When Xerxes, king of Persia, was on the march, He met a beauty, marvelous and fair, And hung her round with costly ornaments, Tasking a man to be her...

Truth is truth wherever it is found, In light-struck windowed hands of opal glass, In pebbles left in homage on a grave, In fingers shelling mounds of lady peas,...

Last night in dreams, she lived a thousand yearsAnd was the architect who made a houseThat wandered from the mountains to the sea. And in its rooms the strange...

In dream, she fished with silk of swans,Baited her hooks of hammered bronze With rainbow strips of cuttlefish,And might have paused to make a wish Or prayed her prayer...

This gold and paint on board, the fillet in her hair—I see resemblance, yes, a slantways glimpse of her Though she is gone away—it was not made from life,For...