What dawn-pulse at the heart of heaven, or last br Incarnate flower of culminating day,— br What marshalled marvels on the skirts of May, br Or song full-quired, sweet June's encomiast; br What glory of change by Nature's hand amass'd br Can vie with all those moods of varying grace br Which o'er one loveliest woman's form and face br Within this hour, within this room, have pass'd? br Love's very vesture and elect disguise br Was each fine movement,—wonder new-begot br Of lily or swan or swan-stemmed galiot; br Joy to his sight who now the sadlier sighs, br Parted again; and sorrow yet for eyes br Unborn, that read these words and saw her not.