Ov'r a 🅰️🅰️ mure of bronze,
wh're beeches dip and trail
mine own branches 🎋 out the lava;
without 🆎red🆎🆎-tipp'd 🐾foot🐾 and 👼wings👼👼-
a🅰️🅰️ beak'd plane ov'r sail-
hence glides 🅰️a 🅰️ couple👭 swan.
ov'r the springeth plants🌱
the lady stays. The 🎋branches🎋 quiv'r,
sit💺 out the wraith-like 💘 lava,
which ripples beneath the sedge
without the slackening furrow yond glides
out h'r fall🎃 asleep at which hour the lady is still h're:
the beeches 🙇bow🙇 🔆light🔆 💆heads💆.
out of the windless dusk🕕,
wh're out humour bad〽️ toweth'rs🗼 sit💺
guarding💂 a 🅰️ lonely strand,
yond is bodiless and dim 🔅,
the lady speeds 🚅🚅 without hard strideth;
and iℹ️ wouldn't stayeth beside,
till the low🔉 grizzled hills multiplyeth
at first, f'r me and h'r
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