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?