It is fair still, though the gold is gone, the spire that seems to rock, when across it, in the wild February nights, the clouds go westward.

Footnotes: 

{21} See Thorpe’s Northern Mythology, vol. ii, p. 214.

{156} In the explanatory remarks accompanying the engravings from Giotto’s frescoes in the Arena Chapel, published by the Arundel Society.  I regret not being able to give the reference to the passage, not having the work by me.

Printed at THE AVON PRESS, London