II
High on a mountain of enamellвАЩd headвБ†вАФ
Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed
Of giant pasturage lying at his ease,
Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees
With many a mutterвАЩd вАЬhope to be forgivenвАЭ
What time the moon is quadrated in HeavenвБ†вАФ
Of rosy head, that towering far away
Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray
Of sunken suns at eveвБ†вАФat noon of night,
While the moon dancвАЩd with the fair stranger lightвБ†вАФ
UprearвАЩd upon such height arose a pile
Of gorgeous columns on thвАЩ unburdenвАЩd air,
Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile
Far down upon the wave that sparkled there,
And nursled the young mountain in its lair.
Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall
ThroвАЩ the ebon air, besilvering the pall
Of their own dissolution, while they dieвБ†вАФ
Adorning then the dwellings of the sky.
A dome, by linkèd light from Heaven let down,
Sat gently on these columns as a crownвБ†вАФ
A window of one circular diamond, there,
LookвАЩd out above into the purple air,
And rays from God shot down that meteor chain
And hallowвАЩd all the beauty twice again,
Save when, between thвАЩ Empyrean and that ring,
Some eager spirit flappвАЩd his dusky wing.
But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen
The dimness of this world: that grayish green
That Nature loves the best for BeautyвАЩs grave
LurkвАЩd in each cornice, round each architraveвБ†вАФ
And every sculpturвАЩd cherub thereabout
That from his marble dwelling peerèd out,
SeemвАЩd earthly in the shadow of his nicheвБ†вАФ
Achaian statues in a world so rich?
Friezes from Tadmor and PersepolisвБ†вАФ
From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss
Of beautiful Gomorrah! Oh, the wave
Is now upon theeвБ†вАФbut too late to save!
Sound loves to revel in a summer night:
Witness the murmur of the gray twilight
That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco,
Of many a wild star-gazer long agoвБ†вАФ
That stealeth ever on the ear of him
Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim.
And sees the darkness coming as a cloudвБ†вАФ
Is not its formвБ†вАФits voiceвБ†вАФmost palpable and loud?
But what is this?вБ†вАФit comethвБ†вАФand it brings
A music with itвБ†вАФвАЩtis the rush of wingsвБ†вАФ
A pauseвБ†вАФand then a sweeping, falling strain,
And Nesace is in her halls again.
From the wild energy of wanton haste
Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart;
The zone that clung around her gentle waist
Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart.
Within the centre of that hall to breathe
She pausвАЩd and panted, Zanthe! all beneath,
The fairy light that kissвАЩd her golden hair
And longвАЩd to rest, yet could but sparkle there!
Young flowers were whispering in melody
To happy flowers that nightвБ†вАФand tree to tree;
Fountains were gushing music as they fell
In many a starlit grove, or moonlit dell;
Yet silence came upon material thingsвБ†вАФ
Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wingsвБ†вАФ
And sound alone that from the spirit sprang
Bore burden to the charm the maiden sang:
вАЬвАКвАЩNeath blue-bell or streamerвБ†вАФ
Or tufted wild spray
That keeps, from the dreamer,
The moonbeam awayвБ†вАФ
Bright beings! that ponder,
With half-closing eyes,
On the stars which your wonder
Hath drawn from the skies,
Till they glance throвАЩ the shade, and
Come down to your brow
LikeвБ†вАФeyes of the maiden
Who calls on you nowвБ†вАФ
Arise! from your dreaming
In violet bowers,
To duty beseeming
These starlitten hoursвБ†вАФ
And shake from your tresses
EncumberвАЩd with dew
The breath of those kisses
That cumber them tooвБ†вАФ
(O! how, without you, Love!
Could angels be blest?)
Those kisses of true love
That lullвАЩd ye to rest!
Up! shake from your wing
Each hindering thing:
The dew of the nightвБ†вАФ
It would weigh down your flight;
And true love caressesвБ†вАФ
O! leave them apart!
They are light on the tresses,
But lead on the heart.
вАЬLigeia! Ligeia!
My beautiful one!
Whose harshest idea
Will to melody run,
O! is it thy will
On the breezes to toss?
Or, capriciously still,
Like the lone Albatross,
Incumbent on night
(As she on the air)
To keep watch with delight
On the harmony there?
вАЬLigeia! wherever
Thy image may be,
No magic shall sever
Thy music from thee.
Thou hast bound many eyes
In a dreamy sleepвБ†вАФ
But the strains still arise
Which thy vigilance keepвБ†вАФ
The sound of the rain
Which leaps down to the flower,
And dances again
In the rhythm of the showerвБ†вАФ
The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass
Are the music of thingsвБ†вАФ
But are modellвАЩd, alas!вБ†вАФ
Away, then, my dearest,
O! hie thee away
To springs that lie clearest
Beneath the moon-rayвБ†вАФ
To lone lake that smiles,
In its dream of deep rest,
At the many star-isles
That enjewel its breastвБ†вАФ
Where wild flowers, creeping,
Have mingled their shade,
On its margin is sleeping
Full many a maidвБ†вАФ
Some have left the cool glade, and
Have slept with the beeвБ†вАФ
Arouse them, my maiden,
On moorland and leaвБ†вАФ
Go! breathe on their slumber,
All softly in ear,
The musical number
They slumberвАЩd to hearвБ†вАФ
For what can awaken
An angel so soon
Whose sleep hath been taken
Beneath the cold moon,
As the spell which no slumber
Of witchery may test,
The rhythmical number
Which lullвАЩd him to rest?вАЭ
Spirits in wing, and angels to the view,
A thousand seraphs burst thвАЩ Empyrean throвАЩ.
Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flightвБ†вАФ
Seraphs in all but вАЬKnowledge,вАЭ the keen light
That fell, refracted, throвАЩ thy bounds afar
O Death! from eye of God upon that star:
Sweet was that errorвБ†вАФsweeter still that deathвБ†вАФ
Sweet was that errorвБ†вАФevвАЩn with us the breath
Of Science dims the mirror of our joyвБ†вАФ
To them вАЩtwere the Simoom, and would destroyвБ†вАФ
For what (to them) availeth it to know
That Truth is FalsehoodвБ†вАФor that Bliss is Woe?
Sweet was their deathвБ†вАФwith them to die was rife
With the last ecstasy of satiate lifeвБ†вАФ
Beyond that death no immortalityвБ†вАФ
But sleep that pondereth and is not вАЬto beвАЭвБ†вАФ
And thereвБ†вАФoh! may my weary spirit dwellвБ†вАФ
Apart from HeavenвАЩs EternityвБ†вАФand yet how far from Hell!
What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim,
Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn?
But two: they fell: for Heaven no grace imparts
To those who hear not for their beating hearts.
A maiden-angel and her seraph-loverвБ†вАФ
O! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over)
Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known?
Unguided Love hath fallenвБ†вАФвАЩmid вАЬtears of perfect moan.вАЭ
He was a goodly spiritвБ†вАФhe who fell:
A wanderer by mossy-mantled wellвБ†вАФ
A gazer on the lights that shine aboveвБ†вАФ
A dreamer in the moonbeam by his love:
What wonder? For each star is eye-like there,
And looks so sweetly down on BeautyвАЩs hairвБ†вАФ
And they, and evвАЩry mossy spring were holy
To his love-haunted heart and melancholy.
The night had found (to him a night of woe)
Upon a mountain crag, young AngeloвБ†вАФ
Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky,
And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie.
Here sate he with his loveвБ†вАФhis dark eye bent
With eagle gaze along the firmament:
Now turnвАЩd it upon herвБ†вАФbut ever then
It trembled to the orb of Earth again.
вАЬIanthe, dearest, see! how dim that ray!
How lovely вАЩtis to look so far away!
She seemвАЩd not thus upon that autumn eve
I left her gorgeous hallsвБ†вАФnor mourned to leave.
That eveвБ†вАФthat eveвБ†вАФI should remember wellвБ†вАФ
The sun-ray dropped, in Lemnos with a spell
On thвАЩ Arabesque carving of a gilded hall
Wherein I sate, and on the draperied wallвБ†вАФ
And on my eyelidsвБ†вАФO, the heavy light!
How drowsily it weighed them into night!
On flowers, before, and mist, and love they ran
With Persian Saadi in his Gulistan:
But O, that light!вБ†вАФI slumberedвБ†вАФDeath, the while,
Stole oвАЩer my senses in that lovely isle
So softly that no single silken hair
Awoke that sleptвБ†вАФor knew that he was there.
вАЬThe last spot of EarthвАЩs orb I trod upon
Was a proud temple called the Parthenon;
More beauty clung around her columned wall
Than even thy glowing bosom beats withal,
And when old Time my wing did disenthral
Thence sprang IвБ†вАФas the eagle from his tower,
And years I left behind me in an hour.
What time upon her airy bounds I hung,
One half the garden of her globe was flung
Unrolling as a chart unto my viewвБ†вАФ
Tenantless cities of the desert too!
Ianthe, beauty crowded on me then,
And half I wishвАЩd to be again of men.вАЭ
вАЬMy Angelo! and why of them to be?
A brighter dwelling-place is here for theeвБ†вАФ
And greener fields than in yon world above,
And womenвАЩs lovelinessвБ†вАФand passionate love.вАЭ
вАЬBut, list, Ianthe! when the air so soft
Failed, as my pennoned spirit leapt aloft.
Perhaps my brain grew dizzyвБ†вАФbut the world
I left so late was into chaos hurled,
Sprang from her station, on the winds apart,
And rolled a flame, the fiery Heaven athwart.
Methought, my sweet one, then I ceased to soar,
And fellвБ†вАФnot swiftly as I rose before,
But with a downward, tremulous motion throвАЩ
Light, brazen rays, this golden star unto!
Nor long the measure of my falling hours,
For nearest of all stars was thine to oursвБ†вАФ
Dread star! that came, amid a night of mirth,
A red Daedalion on the timid Earth.вАЭ
вАЬWe cameвБ†вАФand to thy EarthвБ†вАФbut not to us
Be given our ladyвАЩs bidding to discuss:
We came, my love; around, above, below,
Gay fire-fly of the night we come and go,
Nor ask a reason save the angel-nod
She grants to us, as granted by her GodвБ†вАФ
But, Angelo, than thine gray Time unfurled
Never his fairy wing oвАЩer fairer world!
Dim was its little disk, and angel eyes
Alone could see the phantom in the skies,
When first Al Aaraaf knew her course to be
Headlong thitherward oвАЩer the starry seaвБ†вАФ
But when its glory swellвАЩd upon the sky,
As glowing BeautyвАЩs bust beneath manвАЩs eye,
We paused before the heritage of men,
And thy star trembledвБ†вАФas doth Beauty then!вАЭ
Thus, in discourse, the lovers whiled away
The night that waned and waned and brought no day.
They fell: for Heaven to them no hope imparts
Who hear not for the beating of their hearts.