"Though it was now broad day, a gentle trace
Of light diviner than the common sun

Sheds on the common earth, and all the place
"Was filled with magic sounds woven into one
Oblivious melody, confusing sense

Amid the gilding waves and shadows dun;

"And, as I looked, the bright omnipresence
Of morning through the orient cavern flowed,
And the sun's image radiantly intense

"Burned on the waters of the well that glowed
Like gold, and threaded all the forest's maze
With winding paths of emerald fire; there stood
"Amid the sun, as he amid the blaze
Of his own glory, on the vibrating

Floor of the fountain, paved with flashing rays,

"A Shape all light, which with one hand did fling Dew on the earth, as if she were the dawn,

And the invisible rain did ever sing

"A silver music on the mossy lawn;
And still before me on the dusky grass,
Iris her many-coloured scarf had drawn:

"In her right hand she bore a crystal glass,

Mantling with bright Nepenthe; the fierce splendour Fell from her as she moved under the mass

"Out of the deep cavern, with palms so tender,
Their tread broke not the mirror of its billow:
She glided along the river, and did bend her

"Head under the dark boughs, till, like a willow,
Her fair hair swept the bosom of the stream
That whispered with delight to be its pillow.
"As one enamoured is upborne in dream
O'er lily-paven lakes mid silver mist,

To wondrous music, so this shape might seem

"Partly to tread the waves with feet which kissed The dancing foam; partly to glide along

The air which roughened the moist amethyst,

Or the faint morning beams that fell among The trees, or the soft shadows of the trees; And her feet, ever to the ceaseless song

"Of leaves, and winds, and waves, and birds, and bees, And fallen drops, moved to a measure new

Yet sweet, as on the summer evening breeze,

Up from the lake a shape of golden dew Between two rocks, athwart the rising moon, Dances i' the wind, where never eagle flew ;

"And still her feet, no less than the sweet tune

To which they moved, seemed as they moved to blot
The thoughts of him who gazed on them; and scon

"All that was, seemed as if it had been not;
And all the gazer's mind was strewn beneath
Her feet like embers; and she, thought by thought,

Trampled its sparks into the dust of death;

As day upon the threshold of the east

Treads out the lamps of night, until the breath
"Of darkness re-illumine even the least
Of heaven's living eyes-like day she came,
Making the night a dream; and ere she ceased
"To move, as one between desire and shame
Suspended, I said, If, as it doth seem,
Thou comest from the realm without a name,

"Into this valley of perpetual dream,

Show whence I came, and where I am, and why
Pass not away upon the passing stream.

"Arise and quench thy thirst," was her reply.
And as a shut lily, stricken by the wand
Of dewy morning's vital alchemy

"I rose; and, bending at her sweet command,
Touched with faint lips the cup she raised,
And suddenly my brain became as sand,

"Where the first wave had more than half erased
The track of deer on desert Labrador;

Whilst the wolf from which they fled amazed,

"Leaves, his stamp visibly upon the shore,
Until the second bursts:-so on my sight
Burst a new vision, never seen before,

"And the fair shape waned in the coming light,
As veil by veil the silent splendour drops
From Lucifer, amid the chrysolite

"Of sun-rise, ere it tinge the mountain tops;
And as the presence of that fairest planet,
Although unseen, is felt by one who hopes

"That his day's path may end as he began it
In that star's smile, whose light is like the scent
Of a jonquil when evening breezes fan it,
"Or the soft note in which his dear lament
The Brescian shepherd breathes, or the caress
That turned his weary slumber to content;
"So knew I in that light's severe excess
The presence o. that shape which on the stream
Moved, as I moved along the wilderness,

"More dimly than a day-appearing dream,
The ghost of a forgotten form of sleep;
A light of heaven, whose half-extinguished beam
"Through the sick day in which we wake to weep,
Glimmers, for ever sought, for ever lost;
So did that shape its obscure tenor keep
"Beside my path, as silent as a ghost;
But the new Vision, and the cold bright car,
With solemn speed and stunning music, crost
The forest, and as if from some dread war
Triumphantly returning, the loud million
Fiercely extolled the fortune of her star.
"A moving arch of victory, the vermilion
And green, and azure plumes of Iris, had
Built high over her wind-winged pavilion,

*The favourite song, Stanco di pascolar le peccorelle," is a Brescian national air

"And underneath etherial glory clad
The wilderness, and far before her flew
The tempest of the splendour, which forbade
"Shadow to fall from leaf and stone; the crew
Seemed in that light, like atomies to dance
Within a sunbeam ;-some upon the new
"Embroidery of flowers, that did enhance
The grassy vesture of the desert, played,
Forgetful of the chariot's swift advance
"Others stood gazing, till within the shade
Of the great mountain its light left them dim;
Others outspeeded it: and others made

Circles around it, like the clouds that swim
Round the high moon in a bright sea of air;
And more did follow, with exulting hymn,

The chariot and the captives fettered there:But all like bubbles on an eddying flood

Fell into some track at last, and were

"Borne onward. I among the multitude

Was swept-me, sweetest flowers delayed not long; Me, not the shadow nor the solitude;

"

Me, not that falling stream's Lethean song;

Me, not the phantom of that early form,
Which moved upon its motion-but among
"The thickest billows of that living storm
I plunged, and bared my bosom to the clime
Of that cold light, whose airs too soon deform.
"Before the chariot had begun to climb
The opposing steep of that mysterious dell,
Behold a wonder worthy of the rhyme

"Of him who from the lowest depths of hell,
Through every paradise and through all glory,
Love led serene, and who returned to tell

"The words of hate and care; the wondrous story How all things are transfigured except Love; For deaf as is a sea, which wrath makes hoary,

"The world can hear not the sweet notes that move The sphere whose light is melody to loversA wonder worthy of his rhyme-the grove

"Grew dense with shadows to its inmost covers. The earth was grey with phantoms, and the air Was peopled with dim forms, as when there hovers

"A flock of vampire-bats before the glare
Of the tropic sun, bringing, ere evening,

Strange night upon some Indian vale ;-thus were
"Phantoms diffused around; and some did fling
Shadows of shadows, yet unlike themselves,
Behind them; some like eaglets on the wing

Were lost in the white day; others like elves Danced in a thousand unimagined shapes Upon the sunny streams and grassy shelves:

"

And others sate chattering like restless apes On vulgar hands,

* *

Some made a cradle of the ermined capes

"Of kingly mantles; some across the tire
Of pontiffs rode, like demons; others played
Under the crown which girt with empire

"A baby's or an idiot's brow, and made
Their nests in it The old anatomies

Sate hatching their bare broods under the shade

"Of demon wings, and laughed from their dead eyes To re-assume the delegated power,

Array'd in which those worms did monarchize,

"Who made this earth their charnel. Others more Humble, like falcons, sate upon the fist

Of common men, and round their heads did soar;
"Or like small gnats and flies, as thick as mist
On evening marshes, thronged about the brow
Of lawyers, statesmen, priest, and theorist ;--
"And others, like discoloured flakes of snow
On fairest bosoms and the sunniest hair.
Fell, and were melted by the youthful glow