"Beyond
The distant temple spires that lift their points
In harmony above the leaf-clad town—
Beyond the calm bay and the restless Sound
Was the blue island stretching like a cloud
Where the sky stoops to earth: the Rock was smooth,
And there upon the table-stone sad youths
Had carved, unheeded, names, to weave for them
That insect's immortality that lies
In stone, for ages, on a showman's shelf."