ANIMA LUNAE 
I23 
 
Last, passing through the city wall, he came 
Out to the living flame 
Of lambent water and the carven quay, 
Stone, like embroidery ! 
All the dear beauty of art’s soul sublime 
He looked on the last time, 
And trod the figured steps, and found the ledge 
At the white water’s edge 
Where the king’s pinnace lodged ; but he put by 
That shell of ivory, 
And chose a pearl-inwoven canoe, whose prow 
Bore the moon’s own bright brow 
In grace of silver sculputred ; and therein 
He stepped ; and all the water thin 
Laughed to receive him ; now the city faded 
Little by little into many-shaded 
Clusters of colour.  So his boat was drawn 
Subtly toward the dawn 
With little labour ; and the lake dropped down 
From the orb’s utter crown 
O’er the horizon ; and the narrowing sides 
Showed him the moving tides 
And pearling waters of a tinier stream 
Than in a maiden’s dream 
She laves her silken limbs in, and is glad. 
Then did indeed the fountains change their tune, 
Sliding from gold sun-clad 
To silver filigree wherethrough the moon 
Shines—for the subtle soul 
Of music takes on shape, and we compare