Manuscript:
Transcription:
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Minstrel of the passing days
Sing me the song of all the ways
That snare the soul in the ???[red? Oct?] haze
Song of the dark glory of the hills
When dyes are frightened to dull hues
Of all the gaudy shameless tints
That fire the passions of the princes
Strangling vines clasping their Cleopatras
Closer than Antony's embrace
Whole rims* of haze in pink
Horizons be as if new worlds hew
Shaping off our common quest -
[*possibly suns]
