Xiii

GO you by with gentle tread. This was Paula, who is dead: Dear grey eyes that had a look Like some rock-o'ershadowed brook, Voice upon the ear to cling Sweeter than the cithern string. With that spirit shy and fair Quietly and unaware Climbing past the starry van Went, for triple talisman, They to whom the heavens must ope: Candour, Chastity, and Hope.