There, too, by yonder moon we swore Platonic friendship o’er and o’er; No folk, we deemed, had been before So wise and free. * * * * * And do I sigh or smile to-day? Dead love or dead ambition, say, Which mourn we most? Not much we weigh Platonic friends. On you the sun is shining free; Our Poet sleeps in Italy, Beneath an alien sod; on me The cloud descends. [Illustration: text decoration] UNWIN BROTHERS, LONDON, E.C. End of Project Gutenberg's A London Plane-Tree, and Other Verse, by Amy Levy