XXII. " Ere night, methought, her waning eyes were grown Weary with joy, and tired with our delight, We, on the earth, like sister twins, lay down On one fair mother's bosom :-from that night She fled;-like those illusions clear and bright, Which dwell in lakes, when the red moon on high Pause ere it wakens tempest ;-and her flight, Though 'twas the death of brainless phantasy, Yet smote my lonesome heart more than all misery. XXIII. "It seemed that in the dreary night, the diver Vexed the inconstant waves with my perpetual moan. XXIV. "I was no longer mad, and yet methought My breasts were swoln and changed :-in every vein XXV. "So now my reason was restored to me, I struggled with that dream, which, like a beast Had made its lair, and on my heart did feast; But all that cave and all its shapes possest By thoughts which could not fade, renewed each one Some smile, some look, some gesture which had blest Me heretofore: I, sitting there alone, Vexed the inconstant waves with my perpetual moan. XXVI. "Time past, I know not whether months or years; For day, nor night, nor change of seasons made Its note, but thoughts and unavailing tears: And I became at last even as a shade, A smoke, a cloud on which the winds have preyed, Till it be thin as air; until, one even, A Nautilus upon the fountain played, Spreading his azure sail where breath of Heaven Descended not, among the waves and whirlpools driven. XXVII. "And when the Eagle came, that lovely thing, Fled near me as for shelter; on slow wing, XXVIII. "This wakened me, it gave me human strength And hope, I know not whence or wherefore, rose, But I resumed my ancient powers at length; My spirit felt again like one of those Like thine, whose fate it is to make the woes Of humankind their prey-what was this cave? Immutable, resistless, strong to save, Like mind while yet it mocks the all-devouring grave. XXIX. "And where was Laon? might my heart be dead, To bring me ropes; and long in vain I sought By intercourse of mutual imagery Of objects, if such aid he could be taught; But fruit, and flowers, and boughs, yet never ropes he brought. XXX. "We live in our own world, and mine was made Yon dim and fading clouds which load the weary wind. XXXI. My mind became the book through which I grew Wise in all human wisdom, and its cave, Which like a mine I rifled through and through, To me the keeping of its secrets gave One mind, the type of all, the moveless wave Whose calm reflects all moving things that are, Necessity, and love, and life, the grave, And sympathy, fountains of hope and fear : Justice, and truth, and time, and the world's natural sphere. XXXII. 44 And on the sand would I make signs to range Of love, in that lone solitude I caught From mine own voice in dream, when thy dear eyes XXXIII. "Thy songs were winds whereon I fled at will, Of crystal youth; and thou wert there to fill Smiled on the flowery grave in which were lain XXXIV. "For to my will my fancies were as slaves And oft from that bright fountain's shadowy waves And voice made deep with passion-thus I grew Familiar with the shock and the surprise And war of earthly minds, from which I drew The power which has been mine to frame their thoughts anew. XXXV. "And thus my prison was the populous earth- With undivided fields of ripening corn, And love made free-a hope which we have nurst XXXVI. "All is not lost! there is some recompense For hope whose fountain can be thus profound, Girt by its hell of power, the secret sound Of hymns to truth and freedom-the dread bound |