FullReads

8.
And old Silenus, shaking a green stick 105
Of lilies, and the wood-gods in a crew
Came, blithe, as in the olive copses thick
Cicadae are, drunk with the noonday dew:
And Dryope and Faunus followed quick,
Teasing the God to sing them something new; 110
Till in this cave they found the lady lone,
Sitting upon a seat of emerald stone.

9.
And universal Pan, ’tis said, was there,
And though none saw him,–through the adamant
Of the deep mountains, through the trackless air, 115
And through those living spirits, like a want,
He passed out of his everlasting lair
Where the quick heart of the great world doth pant,
And felt that wondrous lady all alone,–
And she felt him, upon her emerald throne. 120

10.
And every nymph of stream and spreading tree,
And every shepherdess of Ocean’s flocks,
Who drives her white waves over the green sea,
And Ocean with the brine on his gray locks,
And quaint Priapus with his company, 125
All came, much wondering how the enwombed rocks
Could have brought forth so beautiful a birth;–
Her love subdued their wonder and their mirth.

11.
The herdsmen and the mountain maidens came,
And the rude kings of pastoral Garamant– 130
Their spirits shook within them, as a flame
Stirred by the air under a cavern gaunt:
Pigmies, and Polyphemes, by many a name,
Centaurs, and Satyrs, and such shapes as haunt
Wet clefts,–and lumps neither alive nor dead, 135
Dog-headed, bosom-eyed, and bird-footed.

12.
For she was beautiful–her beauty made
The bright world dim, and everything beside
Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade:
No thought of living spirit could abide, 140
Which to her looks had ever been betrayed,
On any object in the world so wide,
On any hope within the circling skies,
But on her form, and in her inmost eyes.

13.
Which when the lady knew, she took her spindle 145
And twined three threads of fleecy mist, and three
Long lines of light, such as the dawn may kindle
The clouds and waves and mountains with; and she
As many star-beams, ere their lamps could dwindle
In the belated moon, wound skilfully; 150
And with these threads a subtle veil she wove–
A shadow for the splendour of her love.

14.
The deep recesses of her odorous dwelling
Were stored with magic treasures–sounds of air,
Which had the power all spirits of compelling, 155
Folded in cells of crystal silence there;
Such as we hear in youth, and think the feeling
Will never die–yet ere we are aware,
The feeling and the sound are fled and gone,
And the regret they leave remains alone. 160

15.
And there lay Visions swift, and sweet, and quaint,
Each in its thin sheath, like a chrysalis,
Some eager to burst forth, some weak and faint
With the soft burthen of intensest bliss.
It was its work to bear to many a saint 165
Whose heart adores the shrine which holiest is,
Even Love’s:–and others white, green, gray, and black,
And of all shapes–and each was at her beck.