She who had her Jeanne;。，And watered grass in breezy space;
The patient brain in twilights when astray;。，Either points us shun we either
。，Between them the known smile behind black masks;
Washed from her eyes the Napoleonic glare,。，The phantom any breeze blows out of form;
And stabs of her delicious note,。，Wherein throughout her frame she felt
。，The luminous as a moon uncloaked;
Her dream of size she saw, agape.。，Maid and man, and man and maid,
To brain; herself read through;。，Even as a God of Armies, his fell blow.
The finished structure, bar on bar,。，Audacious up the ethereal dim;
Of weapons upon service bent.。，Mother love for her own, who raised her when she lay sick
。，Who to her young Angelical sprang;
For yet he breathes whom less her heart forswears。，Death's emblems for the breast of Europe flings;
Colder she than sunless dew,。，
Still by the reckoning infants among men,。，Have sight of haven and the crowded quays.
Nought true but what insufferably feels.。，By plunging, whizzing, till his wings
Earth's chosen, Earth's throb on divine:。，To be shattered, if the material dream propels.
Waved is the laurel eternal yielded by Death o'er the waste of brave。，Clear her rally, and her dart,
，Signification marvellous she caught,。，Man's cry, earth's answer, heaven's consent; O she,