FAR-OFF, most secret, and inviolate Rose,

        Enfold me in my hose

        the holy Sepulchre,

        Or in t, dir

        And tumult of defeated dreams; and deep

        Among pale eyelids, he sleep

        Men y. t leaves enfold

        t beards, the helms of ruby and gold

        Of the king whose eyes

        Sahe pierced hands and Rood of elder rise

        In Druid vapour and make torches dim;

        till vain frenzy awoke and he died; and him

        Fand walking among flaming dew

        By a grey she wind never blew,

        And lost the world and Emer for a kiss;

        And    of their liss,

        And till a hundred moms had flowered red

        Feasted, and    the barrows of his dead;

        And the

        And sorrow away, and calling bard and

        D among ained wanderers in deep woods:

        And illage, and house, and goods,

        And sh lands and islands numberless years,

        Until er and ears,

        A woman of so shining loveliness

        t men t midnigress,

        A little stolen tress. I, too, a

        t wind of love and e.

        ars be blo the sky,

        Like t of a smithy, and die?

        Surely t wind blows,

        Far-off, most secret, and inviolate Rose?
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