The Sorrow of Love

    The brilliant moon and all the milky² sky，

    And all that famous harmony of leaves，

    Had blotted³ out man‘s image and his cry.

    A girl arose that had red mournful lips

    And seemed the greatness of the world in tears，

    Doomed⁴ like Odysseus and the labouring ships

    And proud as Priam murdered with his peers；

    Arose， and on the instant clamorous⁵ eaves，

    A climbing moon upon an empty sky，

    And all that lamentation⁶ of the leaves，

    Could but compose man‘s image and his cry.