Shrouded Knell
O, how all besprent her loveliness is!
Beneath the clouds thou hast sought
Dost his own cenotaph-child sleepeth
With thy chamber of her bower bright.
Romance eterne wake from dew-beam
And every shepherdess doth surpass
His sinews at coo-fall bestill her form
Scarlet raps upon her silver soul-pane.
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