 | Laurella and other poems |  |
III.
First let me range that mythic worldOf phantasy, when smoke upcurled
From many an altar reared to Jove,
And haunted was each stream and grove
With shapes of beauty of immortal mould:
In that unfabled age of gold
When the poet's heart was young,
And all men poets, and there clung
Round visible things a mystery
Of unperturbed infinity.
| Laurella and other poems | |