Song.

In the evening, bells unheard
Suddenly ring in the twisted tower;
The bones of cities, quiet as snow,
Soothe the fine deserted hour.

* * *

Three there were in the shadowed night
Who came to me alone:
Grave Francesca, and laughing Day,
Lydia fair, with her eyes so gay
And I watched from a burnished throne.

Three there were, and the great sea-gods
Roared with boisterous mirth,
For, dreaming of pavements of shining gold,
And ruined cloisters, and courtyards old,
I sailed to the ends of the earth.

Did the sea-gods know, as the sails were filled
With the wind from the desperate sea
Of the empty pain of a broken dream,
Or the [unclear: swift] of the foam in the following stream,
Or would they have mocked at me?

* * *

Softly, my love. You stronger than the three.
Not in the night. For you we estimate.
See now the cities, deep in ancient lies:
Sweet is my love - and fierce, fierce the hate.

R. L. M.