IV.

I have a passion for the name of "Mary,"[273]For once it was a magic sound to me;

And still it half calls up the realms of Fairy,

Where I beheld what never was to be;

All feelings changed, but this was last to vary,

A spell from which even yet I am not quite free:

But I grow sad—and let a tale grow cold,

Which must not be pathetically told.

Share on Twitter Share on Facebook