Wandering under pallid, passionate moons.
Often have I slunk through pleasured rites,
Lonely in the tumult of decay;
Often marked the hectic London nights
Flowing from the violet-lidded day.
Yet, because of you, the world has been
Kindlier. Oh, little heart-o'-rose,
I have glimpsed a beauty seldom seen
In this labyrinthine mist of woes.
Beauty smiles at me from common things,