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32.
And others say, that, when but three hours old,
The first-born Love out of his cradle lept,
And clove dun Chaos with his wings of gold,
And like a horticultural adept, 300
Stole a strange seed, and wrapped it up in mould,
And sowed it in his mother’s star, and kept
Watering it all the summer with sweet dew,
And with his wings fanning it as it grew.

33.
The plant grew strong and green, the snowy flower 305
Fell, and the long and gourd-like fruit began
To turn the light and dew by inward power
To its own substance; woven tracery ran
Of light firm texture, ribbed and branching, o’er
The solid rind, like a leaf’s veined fan– 310
Of which Love scooped this boat–and with soft motion
Piloted it round the circumfluous ocean.

34.
This boat she moored upon her fount, and lit
A living spirit within all its frame,
Breathing the soul of swiftness into it. 315
Couched on the fountain like a panther tame,
One of the twain at Evan’s feet that sit–
Or as on Vesta’s sceptre a swift flame–
Or on blind Homer’s heart a winged thought,–
In joyous expectation lay the boat. 320

35.
Then by strange art she kneaded fire and snow
Together, tempering the repugnant mass
With liquid love–all things together grow
Through which the harmony of love can pass;
And a fair Shape out of her hands did flow– 325
A living Image, which did far surpass
In beauty that bright shape of vital stone
Which drew the heart out of Pygmalion.

36.
A sexless thing it was, and in its growth
It seemed to have developed no defect 330
Of either sex, yet all the grace of both,–
In gentleness and strength its limbs were decked;
The bosom swelled lightly with its full youth,
The countenance was such as might select
Some artist that his skill should never die, 335
Imaging forth such perfect purity.

37.
From its smooth shoulders hung two rapid wings,
Fit to have borne it to the seventh sphere,
Tipped with the speed of liquid lightenings,
Dyed in the ardours of the atmosphere: 340
She led her creature to the boiling springs
Where the light boat was moored, and said: ‘Sit here!’
And pointed to the prow, and took her seat
Beside the rudder, with opposing feet.

38.
And down the streams which clove those mountains vast, 345
Around their inland islets, and amid
The panther-peopled forests whose shade cast
Darkness and odours, and a pleasure hid
In melancholy gloom, the pinnace passed;
By many a star-surrounded pyramid 350
Of icy crag cleaving the purple sky,
And caverns yawning round unfathomably.

39.
The silver noon into that winding dell,
With slanted gleam athwart the forest tops,
Tempered like golden evening, feebly fell; 355
A green and glowing light, like that which drops
From folded lilies in which glow-worms dwell,
When Earth over her face Night’s mantle wraps;
Between the severed mountains lay on high,
Over the stream, a narrow rift of sky. 360