Phedre

　　（To Sarah Bernhardt）

　　How vain and dull this common world must seem

　　To such a One as thou， who should'st have talked

　　At Florence with Mirandola， or walked

　　Through the cool olives of the Academe：

　　Thou should'st have gathered reeds from a green stream

　　For Goat-foot Pan's shrill piping， and have played

　　With the white girls in that Phaeacian glade

　　Where grave Odysseus wakened from his dream.

　　Ah！ surely once some urn of Attic clay

　　Held thy wan dust， and thou hast come again

　　Back to this common world so dull and vain，

　　For thou wert weary of the sunless day，

　　The heavy fields of scentless asphodel，

　　The loveless lips with which men kiss in Hell.