Spreading imaginary pinions wide. When, presently, the stars began to glide, And faint away, before my eager view: At which I sigh'd that I could not pursue, And dropp'd my vision to the horizon's verge; And lo! from opening clouds, I saw emerge The loveliest moon, that ever silver'd o'er A shell for Neptune's goblet; she did soar So passionately bright, my dazzled soul Commingling with her argent spheres did roll Through clear and cloudy, even when she went At last into a dark and vapoury tent- Whereat, methought, the lidless-eyed train. Of planets all were in the blue again.
To commune with those orbs, once more I raised My sight right upward: but it was quite dazed By a bright something, sailing down apace, Making me quickly veil my eyes and face: Again I look'd, and, O ye deities,
Who from Olympus watch our destinies ! Whence that completed form of all completeness? Whence came that high perfection of all sweetness? Speak, stubborn earth, and tell me where, O where Hast thou a symbol of her golden hair?
Not oat-sheaves drooping in the western sun;
Not-thy soft hand, fair sister! let me shun Such follying before thee-yet she had,
Indeed, locks bright enough to make me mad; And they were simply gordian'd up and braided, Leaving, in naked comeliness, unshaded,
Her pearl-round ears, white neck, and orbed brow; The which were blended in, I know not how, With such a paradise of lips and eyes,
Blush-tinted cheeks, half smiles, and faintest sighs, That, when I think thereon, my spirit clings And plays about its fancy, till the stings Of human neighbourhood envenom all. Unto what awful power shall I call?
To what high fane ?-Ah! see her hovering feet, More bluely vein'd, more soft, more whitely sweet Than those of sea-born Venus when she rose From out her cradle shell. The wind outblows Her scarf into a fluttering pavilion ;
'Tis blue, and over-spangled with a million. Of little eyes, as though thou wert to shed,
Over the darkest, lushest blue-bell bed,
Handfuls of daisies."-" Endymion, how strange ! Dream within dream!"-" She took an airy range, And then, towards me, like a very maid,
Came blushing, waning, willing, and afraid,
And press'd me by the hand : Ah! 'twas too much ; Methought I fainted at the charmed touch,
Yet held my recollection, even as one
Who dives three fathoms where the waters run Gurgling in beds of coral: for anon.
I felt upmounted in that region
Where falling stars dart their artillery forth, And eagles struggle with the buffeting north That balances the heavy meteor-stone ;-
Felt too, I was not fearful, nor alone,
But lapp'd and lull'd along the dangerous sky. Soon, as it seem'd, we left our journeying high, And, straightway into frightful eddies swoop'd; Such as aye muster where grey time has scoop'd Huge dens and caverns in a mountain's side: There hollow sounds aroused me, and I sigh'd To faint once more by looking on my bliss- I was distracted; madly did I kiss
The wooing arms which held me, and did give My eyes at once to death: but 'twas to live, To take in draughts of life from the gold fount Of kind and passionate looks; to count, and count The moments, by some greedy help that seem'd
A second self, that each might be redeem'd And plunder'd of its load of blessedness. Ah, desperate mortal! I even dared to press Her very cheek against my crowned lip, And, at that moment, felt my body dip Into a warmer air: a moment more, Our feet were soft in flowers.
Of newest joys upon that alp.
There was store Sometimes
A scent of violets, and blossoming limes, Loiter'd around us; then of honey cells, Made delicate from all white-flower bells; And once, above the edges of our nest, An arch face peep'd,-an Oread as I guess'd.
"Why did I dream that sleep o'er-powered me In midst of all this heaven? Why not see, Far off, the shadows of his pinions dark,
And stare them from me? But no, like a spark That needs must die, although its little beam Reflects upon a diamond, my sweet dream Fell into nothing-into stupid sleep. And so it was, until a gentle creep,
A careful moving caught my waking ears. And up I started: Ah! my sighs, my tears, My clenched hands ;-for lo! the poppies hung Dew-dabbled on their stalks, the ouzel sung A heavy ditty, and the sullen day Had chidden herald Hesperus away, With leaden looks: the solitary breeze Bluster'd, and slept, and its wild self did tease With wayward melancholy; and I thought, Mark me, Peona! that sometimes it brought Faint fare-thee-wells, and high-shrilled adieus ! Away I wander'd-all the pleasant hues
Of heaven and earth had faded: deepest shades Were deepest dungeons; heaths and sunny glades Were full of pestilent light; our taintless rills Seem'd sooty, and o'erspread with upturn'd gills Of dying fish; the vermeil rose had blown In frightful scarlet, and its thorns outgrown Like spiked aloe. If an innocent bird Before my heedless footsteps stirr'd, and stirr'd In little journeys, I beheld in it
A disguised demon, missioned to knit
My soul with under darkness; to entice
My stumblings down some monstrous precipice : Therefore I eager follow'd, and did curse
The disappointment. Time, that aged nurse,
Rock'd me to patience. Now, thank gentle heaven! These things, with all their comfortings, are given
To my down-sunken hours, and with thee, Sweet sister, help to stem the ebbing sea
Thus ended he, and both
Sat silent for the maid was very loth
To answer; feeling well that breathed words Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as swords
Against the enchased crocodile, or leaps
Of grasshoppers against the sun.
And wonders; struggles to devise some blame; To put on such a look as would say, Shame On this poor weakness! but, for all her strife, She could as soon have crush'd away the life From a sick dove. At length, to break the pause,
She said with trembling chance: "Is this the cause? This all? Yet it is strange, and sad, alas !
That one who through this middle earth should pass
Most like a sojourning demi-god, and leave His name upon the harp-string, should achieve No higher bard than simple maidenhood, Singing alone, and fearfully,-how the blood Left his young cheek; and how he used to stray He knew not where and how he would say, nay,
If any said 'twas love: and yet 'twas love, What could it be but love? How a ring-dove
Let fall a sprig of yew-tree in his path
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