Appendix A 



C 682 3 



With its flower-bespangled moss 

 Wet by wayward waves that toss 

 Flotsam from the farthest lands 

 Over Zoltoi's shining sands; 

 Still the cold gray cloud above, 

 Sleep-cap of the Pribilof ! 



Now in darkling mist and spray, 



Let the great globe fade away, 



{All that is become as naxight 



In the vagrant world of thought) 



Cast off seven hundred years, 



With their load of hopes and fears, 



And a fragrance comes to me, 



Rose leaves pressed in history, 



Sweetly strange and strangely sweet; 



Lady Alice, may it be 



I am here alone with thee? 



Let me kneel then, at thy feet. 



Ghosts from ghosts have naught to fear, 



White the hand I kiss, my dear! 



Thus I pass thy guarded gate 

 Where thy mailed retainers wait; 

 They will neither know nor care, 

 For I tread with feet of air 

 To thy walls of cold gray stone 

 Where the daylight never shone, 

 Dismal halls that ne'er could be 

 Sun-illumined save by thee! 



I can see thee decked for show 

 In the robes of long ago. 

 Brocades rich as tapestry. 

 Laces, silks, and jewelry — 

 All the far-sought finery 

 Men have fancied meet for thee. 

 Roses bloom along thy way, 

 {Thou a fairer rose than they) 

 Pink-tipped daisies from the grass 

 Nod their welcome as you pass; 



