28. This Lady never slept, but lay in trance

All night within the fountain-as in sleep.
Its emerald crags glowed in her beauty's glance :
Through the green splendour of the water deep
She saw the constellations reel and dance

Like fireflies-and withal did ever keep
The tenour of her contemplations calm,
With open eyes, closed feet, and folded palm.

29. And, when the whirlwinds and the clouds descended
From the white pinnacles of that cold hill,
She passed at dewfall to a space extended,
Where, in a lawn of flowering asphodel
Amid a wood of pines and cedars blended,
There yawned an inextinguishable well
Of crimson fire, full even to the brim,
And overflowing all the margin trim :—

30. Within the which she lay when the fierce war
Of wintry winds shook that innocuous liquor,

In many a mimic moon and bearded star,

O'er woods and lawns. The serpent heard it flicker

In sleep, and, dreaming still, he crept afar.

And, when the windless snow descended thicker
Than autumn leaves, she watched it as it came
Melt on the surface of the level flame.

31. She had a boat which some say Vulcan wrought
For Venus, as the chariot of her star;

But it was found too feeble to be fraught
With all the ardours in that sphere which are,

And so she sold it, and Apollo bought

And gave it to this daughter: from a car,
Changed to the fairest and the lightest boat
Which ever upon mortal stream did float.

32. And others say that, when but three hours old,
The firstborn Love out of his cradle leapt,
And clove dun chaos with his wings of gold,
And, like a horticultural adept,

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
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 veinèd fan,-

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.

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.

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-
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
Of either sex, yet all the grace of both.

In gentleness and strength its limbs were decked;
The bosom lightly swelled with its full youth;
The countenance was such as might select
Some artist that his skill should never die,
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.

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, 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
Of icy crag cleaving the purple sky,
And caverns yawning round unfathomably.

39. The silver moon into that winding dell,

With slanted gleam athwart the forest tops,
Tempered like golden evening, feebly fell;

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.

40. And, ever as she went, the Image lay

With folded wings and unawakened eyes;
And o'er its gentle countenance did play

The busy dreams, as thick as summer flies,
Chasing the rapid smiles that would not stay,

And drinking the warm tears, and the sweet sighs
Inhaling, which with busy murmur vain

They had aroused from that full heart and brain. 41. And ever down the prone vale, like a cloud Upon a stream of wind, the pinnace went : Now lingering on the pools, in which abode The calm and darkness of the deep content In which they paused; now o'er the shallow road Of white and dancing waters, all besprent With sand and polished pebbles: -mortal boat In such a shallow rapid could not float.

42. And down the earthquaking cataracts, which shiver Their snow-like waters into golden air,

Or under chasms unfathomable ever

Sepulchre them, till in their rage they tear

A subterranean portal for the river,

It fled. The circling sunbows did upbear
Its fall down the hoar precipice of spray,
Lighting it far upon its lampless way.

43. And, when the Wizard Lady would ascend
The labyrinths of some many-winding vale
Which to the inmost mountain upward tend,
She called "Hermaphroditus !"—and the pale
And heavy hue which slumber could extend
Over its lips and eyes, as on the gale
A rapid shadow from a slope of grass,
Into the darkness of the stream did pass.

44. And it unfurled its heaven-coloured pinions;
With stars of fire spotting the stream below,
And from above into the Sun's dominions
Flinging a glory like the golden glow

In which Spring clothes her emerald-wingèd minions,
All interwoven with fine feathery snow,

And moonlight splendour of intensest rime

With which frost paints the pines in winter time.

45. And then it winnowed the elysian air

Which ever hung about that Lady bright,
With its etherial vans: and, speeding there,
Like a star up the torrent of the night,
Or a swift eagle in the morning glare

Breasting the whirlwind with impetuous flight,
The pinnace, oared by those enchanted wings,
Clove the fierce streams towards their upper springs.