Wandering Late By Morning Seas When My Heart With Pain Was Low-- Hate The Censor Pelted Me-- Deject I Saw My Shadow Go. In Elf-Caprice Of Bitter Tone I Too Would Pelt The Pelted One: At My Shadow I Cast A Stone. When Lo, Upon That Sun-Lit Ground I Saw The Quivering Phantom Take The Likeness Of St. Stephen Crowned: Then Did Self-Reverence Awake.