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XIX.

And now the winged song has scaled the height
Of that dark dwelling, builded for despair,
And soon a little casement flashing bright
Widens self-open’d into the cool air–
That music like a bird may enter there
And soothe the captive in his stony cage;
For there is nought of grief, or painful care,
But plaintive song may happily engage
From sense of its own ill, and tenderly assuage.

XX.

And forth into the light, small and remote,
A creature, like the fair son of a king,
Draws to the lattice in his jewell’d coat
Against the silver moonlight glistening,
And leans upon his white hand listening
To that sweet music that with tenderer tone
Salutes him, wondering what kindly thing
Is come to soothe him with so tuneful moan,
Singing beneath the walls as if for him alone!

XXI.

And while he listens, the mysterious song,
Woven with timid particles of speech.
Twines into passionate words that grieve along
The melancholy notes, and softly teach
The secrets of true love,–that trembling reach
His earnest ear, and through the shadows dun
He missions like replies, and each to each
Their silver voices mingle into one,
Like blended streams that make one music as they run.

XXII.

“Ah! Love, my hope is swooning in my heart,–“
“Ay, sweet, my cage is strong and hung full high–“
“Alas! our lips are held so far apart,
Thy words come faint,–they have so far to fly!–“
“If I may only shun that serpent-eye,–“
“Ah me! that serpent-eye doth never sleep;–“
“Then, nearer thee, Love’s martyr, I will die!–“
“Alas, alas! that word has made me weep!
For pity’s sake remain safe in thy marble keep!”

XXIII.

“My marble keep! it is my marble tomb–“
“Nay, sweet! but thou hast there thy living breath–“
“Aye to expend in sighs for this hard doom;–“
“But I will come to thee and sing beneath,”
“And nightly so beguile this serpent wreath;–“
“Nay, I will find a path from these despairs.”
“Ah, needs then thou must tread the back of death,
Making his stony ribs thy stony stairs.–
Behold his ruby eye, how fearfully it glares!”

XXIV.

Full sudden at these words, the princely youth
Leaps on the scaly back that slumbers, still
Unconscious of his foot, yet not for ruth,
But numb’d to dulness by the fairy skill
Of that sweet music (all more wild and shrill
For intense fear) that charm’d him as he lay–
Meanwhile the lover nerves his desperate will,
Held some short throbs by natural dismay,
Then down the serpent-track begins his darksome way.

XXV.

Now dimly seen–now toiling out of sight,
Eclipsed and cover’d by the envious wall;
Now fair and spangled in the sudden light,
And clinging with wide arms for fear of fall;
Now dark and shelter’d by a kindly pall
Of dusky shadow from his wakeful foe;
Slowly he winds adown–dimly and small,
Watch’d by the gentle Swan that sings below,
Her hope increasing, still, the larger he doth grow.

XXVI.

But nine times nine the serpent folds embrace
The marble walls about–which he must tread
Before his anxious foot may touch the base:
Long in the dreary path, and must be sped!
But Love, that holds the mastery of dread,
Braces his spirit, and with constant toil
He wins his way, and now, with arms outspread,
Impatient plunges from the last long coil;
So may all gentle Love ungentle Malice foil!

XXVII.

The song is hush’d, the charm is all complete,
And two fair Swans are swimming on the lake:
But scarce their tender bills have time to meet,
When fiercely drops adown that cruel Snake–
His steely scales a fearful rustling make,
Like autumn leaves that tremble and foretell
The sable storm;–the plumy lovers quake–
And feel the troubled waters pant and swell,
Heaved by the giant bulk of their pursuer fell.

XXVIII.

His jaws, wide yawning like the gates of Death,
Hiss horrible pursuit–his red eyes glare
The waters into blood–his eager breath
Grows hot upon their plumes:–now, minstrel fair!
She drops her ring into the waves, and there
It widens all around, a fairy ring
Wrought of the silver light–the fearful pair
Swim in the very midst, and pant and cling
The closer for their fears, and tremble wing to wing.

XXIX.

Bending their course over the pale gray lake,
Against the pallid East, wherein light play’d
In tender flushes, still the baffled Snake
Circled them round continually, and bay’d
Hoarsely and loud, forbidden to invade
The sanctuary ring–his sable mail
Roll’d darkly through the flood, and writhed and made
A shining track over the waters pale,
Lash’d into boiling foam by his enormous tail.

XXX.

And so they sail’d into the distance dim,
Into the very distance–small and white,
Like snowy blossoms of the spring that swim
Over the brooklets–follow’d by the spite
Of that huge Serpent, that with wild affright
Worried them on their course, and sore annoy,
Till on the grassy marge I saw them ‘light,
And change, anon, a gentle girl and boy,
Lock’d in embrace of sweet unutterable joy!

XXXI.

Then came the Morn, and with her pearly showers
Wept on them, like a mother, in whose eyes
Tears are no grief; and from his rosy bowers
The Oriental sun began to rise,
Chasing the darksome shadows from the skies;
Wherewith that sable Serpent far away
Fled, like a part of night–delicious sighs
From waking blossoms purified the day,
And little birds were singing sweetly from each spray.