V

O pansy-violet, What is this vague regret, This yearning, so like tears, That touches me through years Long past, when myth and fable In all strange things were able To beautify the Earth, Things of immortal worth?-- This longing, that to me Is like a memory, Lived long ago, of two Fair forest children who Loved with no mortal love; Whom heaven smiled above, Fostering; and when they died Laid side by loving side.