Poetry's magic lies in the imagery which satifies even without interpretation..it is accepted as easily as it was created. - Robert Bridges

I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
A honeymoon delight,
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour
My song be like a flower!

For beauty being the best of all we know
Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims
Of nature.

Behind the western bars
The shrouded day retreats,
And unperceived the stars
Steal to their sovran seats. And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
My shadow walks before.