I

There lies a City of Unnumbered Dead Where paths entwine, where hills and valleys be, And still, black pools; the cypress mystically Shrouds those dark ways. There living souls may tread With but slow steps and rare. With slow steps, led By Love two lovers passed; they spake, and she Cast down her mystic eyes lest he might see In their vague depths the image of her dread.

A great round-tower of granite crowns that land. Thither they came, and now her starry eyes Were raised to his; that dread which wrought them ill Behind them with the frozen dead lay chill. Up the enchanted stairway hand in hand They passed, and issued forth to see the skies.