It is so long gone by, and yet

How clearly now I see it all!

The glimmer of your cigarette,

The little chamber, narrow and tall.

Perseus; your picture in its frame;

(How near they seem and yet how far!)

The blaze of kindled logs; the flame

Of tulips in a mighty jar.

Florence and spring-time: surely each

Glad things unto the spirit saith.

Why did you lead me in your speech

To these dark mysteries of death?