Page:New poems and variant readings, Stevenson, 1918.djvu/123

Rh At whose light fall awaking, all my heart

Grew populous with gracious, favoured thought,

And all night long thereafter, hour by hour,

The pageant of dead love before my eyes

Went proudly, and old hopes with downcast head

Followed like Kings, subdued in Rome's imperial hour,

Followed the car; and I ...

SINCE THOU HAST GIVEN ME THIS GOOD HOPE, O GOD