It is so long gone by, and yet How clearly now I see it all! The glimmer of your cigarette, The little chamber, narrow and tall. Perseus; your picture in its frame; (How near they seem and yet how far!) The blaze of kindled logs; the flame Of tulips in a mighty jar. Florence and spring-time: surely each Glad things unto the spirit saith. Why did you lead me in your speech To these dark mysteries of death?