THE after-even ! Ah, did I walk,

Indeed, in her or even ?

For nothing of me or around

But absent She did leaven,

Felt in my body as its soul,

And in my soul its heaven.

"Ah me ! m y very flesh turns soul,

Essenced," I sighed, " with bliss !"

And the blackbird held his lutany,

All f ragrant-through with bliss ;

And all things stilled were as a maid

Sweet with a single kiss.

For grief of perfect fairness, ève

Could nothing do but smile;

The rime was far too perfect fair,

Being but for a while;

And ah, in me, too happy grief

Blinded herself with smile!

The sunset at its radiant heart

Had somewhat unconfest:

The bird was loath of speech, its song

Half-refluent on its breast,

And made melodious toyings with

A note or two at best.

And she was gone, my sole, my Fair,

Ah, sole my Fair, was gone !

Methinks, throughout the world 'twere right

I had been sad alone;

And yet, such sweet in all things* heart,

And such sweet in my own !