Poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson

Epigram

Because I am idolatrous and have besought,
With grievous supplication and consuming prayer,
The admirable image that my dreams have wrought
Out of her swan's neck and her dark, abundant hair:
The jealous gods, who brook no worship save their own,
Turned my live idol marble and her heart to stone.

1. To a Lady Asking Foolish Questions
2. Villanelle of Sunset
3. Yvonne of Brittany
4. The Dead Child
5. Ad Manus Puellae

William Blake Epigram ("You say their Pictures well Painted be")

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