Whose marble flowers bloom for aye:
And—lapped by the moon-guiled tide—
Mock their carver with heart of stone,
Caged in his stone-ribbed side.
THE CATECHISM
'HAST thou then nought wiser to bring
Than worn-out songs of moon and rose?'
'Cracked my voice and broken my wing,
God knows.'
'Tell'st thou no truth of the life that is;