Obrazy na stronie

With syren words—Ah, have I really got

Towards it by a sandy path, and lo! Such power to madden thee? And is it true More suddenly than doth a moment go, Away, away, or I shall dearly rue

The visions of the earth were gone and fled-
My very thoughts : in mercy then away,

He saw the giant sea above his head.
Kindest Alpheus, for should I obey
My own dear will, 't would be a deadly bane."-
“O, Oread-Queen! would that thou hadst a pain
Like this of mine, then would I fearless turn
And be a criminal.”—“ Alas, I burn,

I shudder-gentle river, get thee hence.
Alpheus ! thou enchanter! every sense
Of mine was once made perfect in these woods.
Fresh breezes, bowery lawns, and innocent floods, There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
Ripe fruits, and lonely couch, contentment gave; With most prevailing tinsel : who unpen
But ever since I heedlessly did lave

Their baaing vanities, to browse away
In thy deceitful stream, a panting glow

The comfortable green and juicy hay
Grew strong within me : wherefore serve me so, From human pastures ; or, O torturing fact!
And call it love ? Alas! 't was cruelty.

Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack'd Not once more did I close my happy eyes

Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe Amid the thrush's song. Away! Avaunt! Our gold and ripe-ear'd hopes. With not one tinge O'twas a cruel thing." -"Now thou dost taunt Of sanctuary splendor, nor a sight So softly, Arethusa, that I think

Able to face an owl's, they still are dight If thou wast playing on my shady brink,

By the blear-eyed nations in empurpled vests, Thou wouldst bathe once again. Innocent maid ! And crowns, and turbang. With unladen breasts, Stifle thine heart no more ;-nor be afraid

Save of blown self-applause, they proudly mount Of angry powers : there are deities

To their spirit's perch, their being's high account, Will shade us with their wings. Those fitful sighs Their tip-top nothings, their dull skies, their thrones"T is almost death to hear : 0 let me pour

Amid the fierce intoxicating tones A dewy balm upon them fear no more,

Of trumpets, shoutings, and belabor'd drums, Sweet Arethusa! Dian's self must feel,

And sudden cannon. Ah! how all this hums, Sometimes, these very pangs. Dear maiden, steal In wakeful ears, like uproar past and goneBlushing into my soul, and let us fly

Like thunder-clouds that spake to Babylon, These dreary caverns for the open sky.

And set those old Chaldeans to their tasks. I will delight thee all my winding course,

Are then regalities all gilded masks? From the green sea up to my hidden source

No, there are throned seats unscalable A bout Arcadian forests ; and will show

But by a patient wing, a constant spell, The channels where my coolest waters flow Or by cthereal things that, unconfined, Through mossy rocks; where, 'mid exuberant green, Can make a ladder of the eternal wind, I roam in pleasant darkness, more unseen

And poise about in cloudy thunder-lents Than Saturn in his exile; where I brim

To watch the abysm-birth of elements. Round flowery islands, and take thence a skim Aye, 'bove the withering of old-lipp'd Fate Of mealy sweets, which myriads of bees

A thousand powers keep religious state, Buzz from their honey'd wings: and thou shouldst In water, fiery realm, and airy bourn; please

And, silent as a consecrated urn, Thyself to choose the richest, where we might Hold sphery sessions for a season due. Be incense-pillow'd every summer night.

Yet few of these far majesties, ah, few! Doff all sad fears, thou white deliciousness, Have bared their operations to this globeAnd let us be thus comforted; unless

Few, who with gorgeous pageantry enrobe Thou couldst rejoice to see my hopeless stream Our piece of heaven-whose benevolence Hurry distracted from Sol's temperate beam, Shakes hand with our own Ceres; every sense And pour to death along some hungry sands." — Filling with spiritual sweets to plenitude, • What can I do, Alpheus ? Dian stands

As bees gorge full their cells. And by the feud Severe before me: persecuting fate!

"Twixt Nothing and Creation, I here swear, Unhappy Arethusa! thou wast late

Eterne Apollo! that thy Sister fair
A huntress free in"-At this, sudden fell

Is of all these the gentlier-mightiest.
Those two sad streams adown a fearful dell. When thy gold breath is misting in the west,
The Latmian liston'd, but he heard no more, She unobserved steals unto her throne,
Save echo, faint repeating o'er and o'er

And there she sits most meek and most alone; The name of Arethusa. On the verge

As if she had not pomp subservient;
Of that dark gulf he wept, and said: “I urge As if thine eye, high Poet! was not bent
Thee, gentle Goddess of my pilgrimage,

Towards her with the Muses in thine heart;
By our eternal hopes, to soothe, to assuage,

As if the ministering stars kept not apart,
If thou art powerful, these lovers' pains ;

Waiting for silver-footed messages.
And make them happy in some happy plains." O Moon! the oldest shades 'mong oldest trees

Feel palpitations when thou lookest in:

O Moon ! old boughs lisp forth a holier din He turn'd-there was a whelming sound-he stept, The while they feel thine airy fellowship. There was a cooler light; and so he kept

Thou dost bless everywhere, with silver lip


Kissing dead things to life. The sleeping kine, Along his fated way.
Couch'd in thy brightness, dream of fields divine:
Innumerable mountains rise, and rise,

Far had he roam'd,
Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes ;

With nothing save the hollow vast, that foam'd And yet thy benediction passeth not

A bove, around, and at his feet; save things One obscure hiding-place, one little spot

More dead than Morpheus' imaginings: Where pleasure may be sent: the nested wren Old rusted anchors, helmets, breastplates large Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken,

Of gone sea-warriors; brazen beaks and targe ; And from beneath a sheltering ivy leaf

Rudders that for a hundred years had lost • Takes glimpses of thee; thou art a relief

The sway of human hand ; gold vase emboss'd To the poor patient oyster, where it sleeps

With long forgotten story, and wherein Within its pearly house :-The mighty deeps, No reveller had ever dipp'd a chin The monstrous sea is thine—the myriad sea! But those of Saturn's vintage; mouldering scroll, O Moon! far-spooming Ocean bows to thee, Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls And Tellus feels her forehead's cumbrous load. Who first were on the earth ; and sculptures rude

In ponderous stone, developing the mood

of ancient Nox ;—then skeletons of man, Cynthia! where art thou now? What far abode Of beast, behemoth, and leviathan, Of green or silvery bower doth enshrine

And elephant, and eagle, and huge jaw Such utmost beauty? Alas, thou dost pine

Of nameless monster. A cold leaden awe For one as sorrowful: thy cheek is pale

These secrets struck into him; and unless
For one whose cheek is pale: thou dost bewail Dian had chased away that heaviness,
His tears, who weeps for thee. Where dost thou sigh? He might have died : but now, with cheered feel,
Ah! surely that light peeps from Vesper's eye, He onward kept; wooing these thoughts to steal
Or what a thing is love! "Tis She, but lo!

About the labyrinth in his soul of love.
How changed, how full of ache, how gone in woe!
She dies at the thinnest cloud; her loveliness
Is wan on Neptune's blue: yet there's a stress

“What is there in thee, Moon! that thou shouldst Of love-spangles, just off yon cape of trees, Dancing upon the waves, as if to please

My heart so potently? When yet a child, The curly foam with amorous influence.

I oft have dried my tears when thou hast smiled. 0, not so idle! for down-glancing thence,

Thou seem'dst my sister: hand in hand we wen She fathoms eddies, and runs wild about

From eve to morn across the firmament. O'erwhelming water-courses; scaring out

No apples would I gather from the tree, The thorny sharks from hiding-holes, and frightning Till thou hadst cool'd their cheeks deliciously: Their savage eyes with unaccustom'd lightning. No tumbling water ever spake romance, Where will the splendor be content to reach? But when my eyes with thine thereon could dance : O love! how potent hast thou been to teach No woods were green enough, no bower divide, Strange journeyings! Wherever beanty dwells, Until thou lified'st up thine eyelids fine: In gulf or aerie, mountains or deep dells,

In sowing-time ne'er would I dibble take, In light, in gloom, in star or blazing sun,

Or drop a seed, till thou wast wide awake ; Thou pointest out the way, and straight 'tis won. And, in the summer-lide of blossoming. Amid his toil thou gavest Leander breath;

No one but thee haih heard me blithely sing 'Thou leddest Orpheus through the gleams of death ; And mesh my dewy flowers all the night. Thou madest Pluto bear thin element :

No melody was like a passing spright
And now, O winged Chieftain! thou hast sent If it went not to solemnize thy reign.
A moonbeam to the deep, deep water-world, Yes, in my boyhood, every joy and pain
To find Endymion.

By thee were fashion'd to the self-same end;
And as I grew in years, still didst thou blend

With all my ardors: thou wast the deep glen ;
On gold sand impearl'd

Thou wast the mountain-top— the sage's periWith lily shells, and pebbles milky white,

The poet's harp—the voice of friends-the sun; Poor Cynthia greeted him, and soothed her light Thou wast the river-thou wast glory won; Against his pallid face: he felt the charm Thou wast my clarion's blast--thou wast my steed To breathlessness, and suddenly a warm

My goblet full of wine--my topmost deed :-
Of his heart's blood : 'twas very sweet; he stay'd Thou wast the charm of women, lovely Moon!
His wandering steps, and half-entranced laid O what a wild and harmonized tune
His head upon a tuft of straggling weeds,

My spirit struck from all the beautiful!
To taste the gentle moon, and freshening beads, On some bright essence could I lean, and lull
Lash'd from the crystal roof by fishes' tails. Myself to immortality: I prest
And so he kept, until the rosy veils

Nature's soft pillow in a wakeful rest.
Mantling the east, by Aurora's peering hand But, gentle Orb! there came a nearer bliss
Were lifted from the water's breast, and fann'd My strange love came-Felicity's abyss!
Into sweet air; and sober'd morning came

She came, and thou didst fade, and fade away Meekly through billows :--when like ta per-flame Yet not entirely ; no, thy starry sway Left sudden by a dallying breath of air,

Has been an under-passion to this hour. He rose in silence, and once more 'gan fare Now I begin to feel thine orby power

Is coming fresh upon me: O be kind!

To northern seas I'll in a twinkling sail, Keep back thine influence, and do not blind And mount upon the snortings of a whale My sovereign vision.— Dearest love, forgive To some black cloud ; thence down I'll madly sweep That I can think away from thee and live! On forked lightning, to the deepest deep, Pardon me, airy planet, that I prize

Where through some sucking pool I will be hurl'd One thought beyond thine argent luxuries ! With rapture to the other side of the world! How far beyond !” At this a surprised start 0, I am full of gladness! Sisters three, Frosted the springing verdure of his heart;

I bow full-hearted to your old decree! For as he lifted up his eyes to swear

Yes, every God be thank'd, and power benign, How his own goddess was past all things fair, For I no more shall wither, droop, and pine. He saw far in the concave green of the sea Thou art the man!” Endymion started back An old man sitting calm and peacefully.

Dismay'd ; and, like a wretch from whom the rack Upon a weeded rock this old man sat,

Tortures hot breath, and speech of agony, And his white hair was awful, and a mat

Mutter'd : “ What lonely death am I to die Of weeds was cold beneath his cold thin feet; In this cold region? Will he let me freeze, And, ample as the largest winding-sheet,

And float my brittle limbs o'er polar seas? A cloak of blue wrapp'd up his aged bones, Or will he touch me with his searing hand, O'erwrought with symbols by the deepest groans And leave a black memorial on the sand ? Of ambitious magic: every ocean-form

Or tear me piecemeal with a bony saw, Was woven in with black distinctness: storm, And keep me as a chosen food to draw And calm, and whispering, and hideous roar His magian fish through hated fire and Aame? Were emblem'd in the woof; with every shape O misery of hell! resistless, tame, That skims, or dives, or sleeps, 'twixt cape and cape, Am I to be burnt up? No, I will shout, The gulfing whale was like a dot in the spell, Until the Gods through heaven's blue look out! Yet look upon it, and 't would size and swell o Tartarus! but some few days agone To its huge self; and the minulest fish

Her soft arms were entwining me, and on Would pass the very hardest gazer's wish,

Her voice I hung like fruit among green leaves : And show his little eye's anatomy.

Her lips were all my own, and—ah, ripe sheaves Then there was pictured the regality

of happiness! ye on the stubble droop, Of Neptune ; and the sea-nymphs round his state, But never may be garner'd. I must stoop In beauteous vassalage, look up and wait.

My head, and kiss death's foot. Love! love, farewell ! Beside this old man lay a pearly wand,

Is there no hope from thee? This horrid spell And in his lap a book, the which he conn'd Would melt at thy sweet breath.—By Dian's hind So stedfastly, that the new denizen

Feeding from her white fingers, on the wind Had time to keep him in amazed ken,

I see thy streaming hair! and now, by Pan, To mark these shadowings, and stand in awe. I care not for this old mysterious man!”

The old man raised his hoary head and saw
The wilder'd stranger-seerning not to see,
His features were so liseless. Suddenly
He woke as from a trance ; his snow-white brows
Went arching up, and like two magic plows
Furrow'd deep wrinkles in his forehead large,
Which kept as fixedly as rocky marge,
Til round his wither'd lips had gone a smile.
Then up he rose, like one whose tedious toil
Had watch'd for years in forlorn hermitage,
Who had not from mid-life to utmost age
Eased in one accent his o'er-burden'd soul,
Even to the trees. He rose : he grasp'd his stole,
With convulsed clenches waving it abroad,
And in a voice of solemn joy, that awed
Echo into oblivion, he said :-

He spake, and walking to that aged form,
Look'd high defiance. Lo! his heart 'gan warm
With pity, for the gray-hair'd creature wept.
Had he then wrong'd a heart where sorrow kept?
Had he, though blindly contumelious, brought,
Rheum to kind eyes, a sting to human thought,
Convulsion to a mouth of many years ?
He had in truth; and he was ripe for tears.
The penitent shower fell, as down he knelt
Before that care-worn sage, who trembling felt
About his large dark locks, and faltering spake :


Thou art the man! Now shall I lay my head
In peace upon my watery pillow: now
Sleep will come smoothly to my weary brow.
O Jove! I shall be young again, be young !
O shell-born Neptune, I am pierced and stung
With new-born life! What shall I do? Where go,
When I have cast this serpent-skin of woe?-
I'll swim to the syrens, and one moment listen
Their melodies, and see their long hair glisten;
Anon upon that giant's arm I'll be,
That writhes about the roots of Sicily:

“ Arise, good youth, for sacred Phoebus' sake!
I know thine inmost bosom, and I feel
A very brother's yearning for thee steal
Into mine own: for why? thou openest
The prison-gates that have so long opprest
My weary watching. Though thou know'st it not,
Thou art commission'd to this fated spot
For great enfranchisement. Oweep no more ;
I am a friend to love, to loves of yore:
Ay, hadst thou never loved an unknown power,
I had been grieving at this joyous hour.
But even now most miserable old,
I saw thee, and my blood no longer cold
Gave mighty pulses: in this tottering case
Grew a new heart, which at this moment plays

As dancingly as thine. Be not afraid,
For thou shalt hear this secret all display'd,

Now as we speed towards our joyous task.” Would strew sweet flowers on a sterile beach. So saying, this young soul in age's mask

“Why was I not contented? Wherefore reach Went forward with the Carian side by side : At things which, but for thee, O Latmian! Resuming quickly thus ; while ocean's tide Had been my dreary death! Fool! I began Hung swollen at their backs, and jewell'd sands To feel distemper'd longings: to desire Took silently their foot-prints.

The utmost privilege that ocean's sire

Could grant in benediction : to be free

“My soul stands Of all his kingdom. Long in misery Now past the midway from mortality,

I wasted, ere in one extremest fit And so I can prepare without a sigh

I plunged for life or death. To interknit To tell thee briefly all my joy and pain.

One's senses with so dense a breathing stuff I was a fisher once, upon this main,

Might seem a work of pain ; so not enough And my boat danced in every creek and bay; Can I admire how crystal-smooth it felt, Rough billows were my home by night and day, And buoyant round my limbs. At first I dwelt The sea-gulls not more constant; for I had Whole days and days in sheer astonishment; No housing from the storm and tempests mad, Forgetful utterly of self-intent; But hollow rocks--and they were palaces Moving but with the mighty ebb and flow. Of silent happiness, of slumberous ease :

Then, like a new-fledged bird that first doth show Long years of misery have told me so.

His spreaded feathers to the morrow chill, Ay, thus it was one thousand years ago.

I tried in fear the pinions of my will.
One thousand years !-Is it then possible

'Twas freedom! and at once I visited
To look so plainly through them? to dispel The ceaseless wonders of this ocean-bed.
A thousand years with backward glance sublime ? No need to tell thee of them, for I see
To breathe away as 't were all scummy slime That thou hast been a witness-it must be
From off a crystal pool, to see its deep,

For these I know thou canst not feel a drouth,
And one's own image from the bottom peep? By the melancholy corners of that mouth.
Yes: now I am no longer wretched thrall, So I will in my story straightway pass
My long captivity and moanings all

To more immediate matter. Woe, alas! Are but a slime, a thin-pervading scum,

That love should be my bane! Ah, Scylla fair! The which I breathe away, and thronging come Why did poor Glaucus ever-ever dare Like things of yesterday my youthful pleasures. To sue thee to his heart? Kind stranger-youth!

I loved her to the very white of truth, “ I touch'd no lute, I sang not, trod no measures : And she would not conceive it. Timid thing! I was a lonely youth on desert shores.

She fled me swift as sea-bird on the wing, My sports were lonely, 'mid continuous roars, Round every isle, and point, and promontory, And craggy isles, and sea-mews' plaintive cry From where large Hercules wound up his story Plaining discrepant between sea and sky.

Far as Egyptian Nile. My passion grew Dolphins were still my playmates; shapes unseen The more, the more I saw her dainty hue Would let me feel their scales of gold and green, Gleam delicately through the azure clear: Nor be my desolation ; and, full oft,

Until 't was too fierce agony to bear; When a dread water-spout had rear'd aloft And in that agony, across my grief Its hungry hugeness, seeming ready ripe

It flash'd, that Circe might find some reliefTo burst with hoarsest thunderings, and wipe Cruel enchantress! So above the water My life away like a vast sponge of fate,

I rear'd my head, and look'd for Phæbus' daughter. Some friendly monster, pitying my sad state, Ææa's isle was wondering at the moon Has dived to its foundations, gulf'd it down, It seem'd to whirl around me, and a swoon And left me tossing safely. But the crown Left me dead-drifting to that fatal power. Of all my life was utmost quietude : More did I love to lie in cavern rude,

“When I awoke, 't was in a twilight bower ; Keeping in wait whole days for Neptune's voice, Just when the light of morn, with hum of bees, And if it came at last, hark, and rejoice!

Stole through its verdurous matting of fresh trees There blush'd no summer eve but I would steer How sweet, and sweeter! for I heard a lyre, My skiff along green shelving coasts, to hear And over it a sighing voice expire. The shepherd's pipe come clear from aery steep, It ceased—I caught light footsteps; and anon Mingled with ceaseless bleatings of his sheep: The fairest face that morn e'er look'd upon And never was a day of summer shine,

Push'd through a screen of roses. Starry Jove ! But I beheld its birth upon the brine ;

With tears, and smiles, and honey-words she wore For I would watch all night to see unfold

A net whose thraldom was more bliss than all Heaven's gates, and Æthon snort his morning gold The range of flower'd Elysium. Thus did fall, Wide o'er the swelling streams: and constantly The dew of her rich speech : “Ah! art awake? At brim of day-tide, on some grassy lea,

O let me hear thee speak, for Cupid's sake! My nets would be spread out, and I at rest. I am so oppress'd with joy! Why, I have shed The poor folk of the sea-country I blest

An urn of tears, as though thou wert cold dead; With daily boon of fish most delicate :

And now I find thee living, I will pour They knew not whence this bounty, and elate From these devoted eyes their silver store,

Until exhausted of the latest drop,

Bewitch'd me towards; and I soon was near
So it will pleasure thee, and force thee stop A sight too fearful for the feel of fear;
Here, that I too may live: but if beyond

In thicket hid I cursed the haggard scene
Such cool and sorrowful offerings, thou art fond The banquet of my arms, my arbor queen,
Of soothing warmth, of dalliance supreme; Seated upon an uptorn forest root;
If thou art ripe to taste a long love-dream; And all around her shapes, wizard and brute,
If smiles, if dimples, tongues for ardor mute, Laughing, and wailing, grovelling, serpenting,
Hang in thy vision like a tempting fruit,

Showing tooth, tusk, and venom-bag, and sting!
O let me pluck it for thee." Thus she link'd O such deformities! Old Charon's self,
Her charming syllables, till indistinct

Should he give up awhile his penny pelf, Their music came to my o'er-sweeten’d soul; And take a dream 'mong rushes Stygian, And then she hover'd over me, and stole

It could not be so fantasied. Fierce, wan, So near, that if no nearer it had been

And tyrannizing was the lady's look, This furrow'd visage thou hadst never seen. As over them a gnarled staff she shook.

Of-times upon the sudden she laugh'd out, “ Young man of Latmos! thus particular

And from a basket emptied to the rout Am I, that thou mayst plainly see how far

Clusters of grapes, the which they raven'd quick This fierce temptation went: and thou mayst not

And roard for more; with many a hungry lick Exclaim, How then, was Scylla quite forgot? About their shaggy jaws. Avenging, slow,

Anon she took a branch of mistletoe,

And emptied on't a black dull-gurgling phial : u Who could resist? Who in this universe ?

Groan'd one and all, as if some piercing trial She did so breathe ambrosia ; so immerse

Was sharpening for their pitiable bones. My fine existence in a golden clime.

She lifted up the charm : appealing groans She took me like a child of suckling time,

From their poor breasts went suing to her ear And cradled me in roses. Thus condemn'd,

In vain; remorseless as an infant's bier, The current of my former life was stemm'd,

She whisk'd against their eyes the sooty oil. And to this arbitrary queen of sense

Whereat was heard a noise of painful toil, I bow'd a tranced vassal : nor would thence Have moved, even though Amphion's heart had woo'd Shrieks, yells, and groans of torture-pilgrimage ;

Increasing gradual to a tempest rage, Me back to Scylla o'er the billows rude.

Until their grieved bodies 'gan to bloat For as Apollo each eve doth devise

And puff from the tail's end to stifled throat : A new apparelling for western skies;

Then was appalling silence: then a sight So every eve, nay, every spendthrift hour

More wildering than all that hoarse affright; Shed balmy consciousness within that bower.

For the whole herd, as by a whirlwind writhen, And I was free of haunts umbrageous ;

Went through the dismal air like one huge Python Could wander in the mazy forest-house

Antagonizing Boreas,—and so vanish’d. Of squirrels, foxes sly, and antler'd deer,

Yet there was not a breath of wind : she banish'd And birds from coverts innermost and drear

These phantoms with a nod. Lo! from the dark Warbling for very joy mellifluous sorrow

Came waggish fauns, and nymphs, and satyrs stark, To me new-born delights!

With dancing and loud revelry, and went

Swifter than centaurs after rapine bent.-“Now let me borrow,

Sighing an elephant appear'd and bow'd For moments few, a temperament as stern

Before the fierce witch, speaking thus aloud As Pluto's sceptre, that my words not burn

In human accent : Potent goddess ! chief
These uttering lips, while I in calm speech tell of pains resistless ! make my being brief,
How specious heaven was changed to real hell. Or let me from this heavy prison fly :

Or give me to the air, or let me die!
“One morn she left me sleeping : half awake I sue not for my happy crown again ;
I sought for her smooth arms and lips, to slake I sue not for my phalanx on the plain;
My greedy thirst with nectarous camel-draughts ; I sue not for my lone, my widow'd wife :
But she was gone. Whereat the barbed shafts I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
Of disappointment stuck in me so sore,

My children fair, my lovely girls and boys !
That out I ran and search'd the forest o'er. I will forget them; I will pass these joys ;
Wandering about in pine and cedar gloom, Ask naught so heavenward, so too—too high:
Damp awe assail'd me; for there 'gan to boom Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die,
A sound of moan, an agony of sound,

Or be deliver'd from this cumbrous flesh, Sepulchral from the distance all around.

From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh, Then came a conquering earth-thunder, and rumbled And merely given to the cold bleak air. That fierce complain to silence : while I stumbled Have mercy, Goddess! Circe, feel my prayer!' Down a precipitous path, as if impellid, I came to a dark valley.-Groanings swell'd Poisonous about my ears, and louder grew,

“That curst magician's name fell icy numb The nearer I approach'd a flame's gaunt blue, Upon my wild conjecturing: truth had come That glared before me through a thorny brake. Naked and sabre-like against my heart. This fire, like the eye of gordian snake,

I saw a fury whetting a death-dart;

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