Nor skin nor hide nor fleece Shall cover you, Nor curtain of crimson nor fine Shelter of cedar-wood be over you, Nor the fir-tree Nor the pine. Nor sight of whin nor gorse Nor river-yew, Nor fragrance of flowering bush, Nor wailing of reed-bird to waken you. Nor of linnet Nor of thrush. Nor word nor touch nor sight Of lover, you Shall long through the night but for this: The roll of the full tide to cover you Without question, Without kiss. _William Rose Benét_ William Rose Benét was born at Fort Hamilton, New York Harbor, February 2, 1886. He was educated at Albany Academy and graduated from Yale in 1907. After various experiences as free-lance writer, publisher’s reader, magazine editor and second lieutenant in the U. S. Air Service, Benét became the Associate Editor of the New York Post’s _Literary Review_ in 1920. The outstanding feature of Benét’s verse is its extraordinary whimsicality; an oriental imagination riots through his pages. Like the title-poem of his first volume, _Merchants from Cathay_ (1913), all of Benét’s volumes vibrate with a vigorous music; they are full of the sonorous stuff that one rolls out crossing wintry fields or tramping a road alone. But Benét’s charm is not confined to the lift and swing of rollicking choruses. His _The Falconer of God_ (1914), _The Great White Wall_ (1916) and _The Burglar of the Zodiac_ (1918) contain decorations as bold as they are brilliant; they ring with a strange and spicy music evoked from seemingly casual words; they glow with a half-lurid, half-humorous reflection of the grotesque. There are times when Benét seems to be forcing his ingenuity. The poet frequently lets his fantastic Pegasus run away with him, and what started out to be a gallop among the stars ends in a scraping of shins on the pavement. But he is saved by an acrobatic dexterity even when his energy betrays him. _Moons of Grandeur_ (1920) represents the fullest development of Benét’s unusual gifts; a combination of Eastern phantasy and Western vigor. MERCHANTS FROM CATHAY Their heels slapped their bumping mules; their fat chaps glowed.[Sidenote: _How that They came._] Glory unto Mary, each seemed to wear a crown! Like sunset their robes were on the wide, white road: So we saw those mad merchants come dusting into town!