Fall, April; fall, April; bring new grief to birth.
Bring wild herb of grace, and bring deep healing dittany,
For Marian, our clear May, so long laid in earth.
[THE LOST BATTLE]
IT is not over yet—the fight
Where those immortal dreamers failed.
They stormed the citadels of night
And the night praised them—and prevailed.
So long ago the cause was lost