Excerpt from Queen Mary and Harold To The Master of Balliol III And on this white midwinter day - For have the far-off hymns of May, All her melodies, All her harmonies echo'd away? - IV To-day, before you turn again To thoughts that lift the soul of men, Hear my cataract's Downward thunder in hollow and glen, V. Till, led by dream and vague desire, The woman, gliding toward the pyre, Find her warrior Stark and dark in his funeral fire.