On Receiving A Book From

Oh, great-eyed contemplation whom I saw Walk by the blue shores of the Northern Sea Leaning upon a giant, who for thee Seemed gentle, while black Night far west did gnaw The jagged Eve, and, near, the flapping caw Round Beatoun's shadowy Tower croaked down on me More than the gloom of Night: ere thou couldst see Beyond the inhuman ruin, or withdraw Thy soul from eyes, which, as one tune can fill Two voices, made the pathos of that soul A double passion, standing dim and still I saw and wondered. Is this book thy scroll, Ah Sybil? Hast thou writ the unheard cry I saw thee look that eve to Eartn and Sea and Sky?