done,

No other is soft in the rhythm; Unless you can feel, when left by One, That all men else go with him; Unless you can know, when upraised by his breath,

That your beauty itself wants proving; Unless you can swear, 'For life, for

death!'

Freely-open-minded;

Love me with thy loitering foot,Hearing one behind it.

VI

Do ye leave your rivers flowing

All alone, O Naiades,

XII

Ha, Apollo! floats his golden
Hair all mist-like where he stands,