Under the blossoming plum-tree,

She expresses the pilgrimage

Of grey souls passing,

Athwart love's scarlet maples

To the ash-strewn summit of death.

[25]

[25]

 A Beautiful Woman

Iris-amid-clouds

Must be her name.

Tall and lonely as the mountain-iris,

Cold and distant.

She has never known longing:

Many have died for love of her.

[26]

[26]

 A Reading

"And the prince came to the craggy rock

But saw only hissing waves

So he rested all day amid them."

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