And out of memories of her kindlier days, And out of hauntings of my spoken love, But such as gather'd colour day by day. Last I woke sane, but well-nigh close to death For weakness it was evening: silent light Slept on the painted walls, wherein were wrought Two grand designs; for on one side arose The women up in wild revolt, and storm'd At the Oppian law. Titanic shapes, they cramm'd * to curtail the expenses & lampuns ? Rome 2 Vomen Coppius, triplet is c.21?! The forum, and half-crush'd among the rest A dwarf-like Cato cower'd. On the other side Hortensia spoke against the tax; behind, A train of dames: by axe and eagle sat, With all their foreheads drawn in Roman scowls, And half the wolf's-milk curdled in their veins, The fierce triumvirs; and before them paused Hortensia, pleading: angry was her face. I saw the forms: I knew not where I was: They did but look like hollow shows; nor more Dwelt in her eyes, and softer all her shape And rounder seem'd: I moved: I sigh'd: a touch Came round my wrist, and tears upon my hand : Then all for languor and self-pity ran Mine down my face, and with what life I had, And like a flower that cannot all unfold, So drench'd it is with tempest, to the sun, Fixt my faint eyes, and utter'd whisperingly : If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream, I would but ask you to fulfil yourself: But if you be that Ida whom I knew, I ask you nothing: only, if a dream, I could no more, but lay like one in trance, That hears his burial talk'd of by his friends, She stoop'd; and out of languor leapt a cry; And I believed that in the living world My spirit closed with Ida's at the lips; Till back I fell, and from mine arms she rose Her falser self slipt from her like a robe, And left her woman, lovelier in her mood Than in her mould that other, when she came From barren deeps to conquer all with love; And down the streaming crystal dropt; and she Far-fleeted by the purple island-sides, Naked, a double light in air and wave, To meet her Graces, where they deck'd her out For worship without end; nor end of mine, Stateliest, for thee! but mute she glided forth, Nor glanced behind her, and I sank and slept, Fill'd thro' and thro' with Love, a happy sleep. Deep in the night I woke : she, near me, held A volume of the Poets of her land: There to herself, all in low tones, she read. 'Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost, And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me. Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me. Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, Into my I heard her turn the page; she found a small Sweet Idyl, and once more, as low, she read : 'Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height : What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills? |