Poem:AthanasiaTothatgauntHouseofArtwhichlacksfornaughtOfallthegreatthingsmenhavesavedfromTime，ThewitheredbodyofagirlwasbroughtDeaderetheworld\'sgladyouthhadtoucheditsprime，AndseenbylonelyArabslyinghidInthedimwombofsomeblackpyramid。
ButwhentheyhadunloosedthelinenbandWhichswathedtheEgyptian\'sbody，-lo!wasfoundClosedinthewastedhollowofherhandAlittleseed，whichsowninEnglishgroundDidwondroussnowofstarryblossomsbearAndspreadrichodoursthroughourspring-tideair。
WithsuchstrangeartsthisflowerdidallureThatallforgottenwastheasphodel，Andthebrownbee，thelily\'sparamour，Forsookthecupwherehewaswonttodwell，Fornotathingofearthitseemedtobe，ButstolenfromsomeheavenlyArcady。
Invainthesadnarcissus，wanandwhiteAtitsownbeauty，hungacrossthestream，Thepurpledragon-flyhadnodelightWithitsgolddusttomakehiswingsa-gleam，Ah!nodelightthejasmine-bloomtokiss，Orbrushtherain-pearlsfromtheeucharis。
ForloveofitthepassionatenightingaleForgotthehillsofThrace，thecruelking，AndthepaledovenolongercaredtosailThroughthewetwoodsattimeofblossoming，ButroundthisflowerofEgyptsoughttofloat，Withsilveredwingandamethystinethroat。