 | Fand and Other Poems |  |
I stept ashore
And made for the mid-isle, threading my path
Through the green tangle to what seemed a light:
And, coming to an open space of grass,
Beheld before me, in the midst thereof
A wall of reddest roses front my way:
I heard within the wall a voice that sang.
And made for the mid-isle, threading my path
Through the green tangle to what seemed a light:
And, coming to an open space of grass,
Beheld before me, in the midst thereof
A wall of reddest roses front my way:
I heard within the wall a voice that sang.
| Fand and Other Poems | |