Lost

Whither is now that city vanished

Where once I walked with innocence hand in hand?

O, an insidious tide hath drowned

Deeper than regret

Cupola, minaret,

And all the streets are sand.

Surely the streets were emerald-paven

When I walked there with innocence. Alas!

Vainly, vainly I peer into

The water’s riddling face,

There is left no trace

Of my lost Lyonesse.