A PEACOCK

By what sweet craft, in subtly-altering way,

as your exuberant plumage caught from day,

rom night, from meadowy verdure, from all flowers,

hat sumptuous iridescence whose rare spell

our shape with such warm sheeny luxury dowers, Vhere ever-mellowing colors meet and play ?

he magic of your beauty alone should dwell

lovely illusive realms of fairy-iore !

t languorous leisure you should pace before

me me

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Some huge-domed palace whose long marble walls, Rich in pale sculpturings, hide from outward eyes À sorceress-queen, with ermined velvets elad ; While up in one lone tower a princess calls,

With silvery voice unutterably sad,

Her twelveswan-brothers journeying through far skie