Meseemed That While She Played, While Lightly Yet Her Fingers Fell, As Roses Bloom By Bloom, I Listened Dead Within A Mighty Room Of Some Old Palace Where Great Casements Let Gaunt Moonlight In, That Glimpsed A Parapet Of Statued Marble: In The Arrased Gloom Majestic Pictures Towered, Dim As Doom, The Dreams Of Titian And Of Tintoret. And Then, It Seemed, Along A Corridor, A Mile Of Oak, A Stricken Footstep Came, Hurrying, Yet Slow ' I Thought Long Centuries Passed Ere She Entered She, I Loved Of Yore, For Whom I Died, Who Wildly Wailed My Name And Bent And Kissed Me On The Mouth And Eyes.