I. UNDER THE TREES.

There had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapes

Of this and this occasion, sisterly

In their resemblances, each effigy

Crowned with the same bright hair above the nape's

White rounded firmness, and each body alert

With such swift loveliness, that very rest

Seemed a poised movement:... phantoms that impressed

But a faint influence and could bless or hurt

No more than dreams. And these ghost things were she;

For formless still, without identity,

Not one she seemed, not clear, but many and dim.

One face among the legions of the street,

Indifferent mystery, she was for him

Something still uncreated, incomplete.