Save to the charm that held her heart in thrall.
And Love, who loved her, flew at her sweet will,
Bringing all gems that hoard the rainbow’s splendor,
And singing-birds with magic in their trill,
And what wild-flowers fairy-land could lend her,
And flower and bird and jewel all were laid
To grace that golden altar in the Shade.
Fair was that sylvan solitude I ween—
The lady’s charmed and trancéd spirit lent
The starlight of its beauty to the scene,