As in those gardens where the day Of melody in woodland rill Or (music of the passion-hearted) Yet all the beauty-all the flowers That list our Love, and deck our bowers Adorn world afar, yon The wandering star. afar 'Twas a sweet time for Nesace-for there Her world lay lolling on the golden air, Near four bright suns-a temporary rest―- To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode, She throws aside the sceptre-leaves the helm, Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs. Now happiest, loveliest in yon lovely Earth, Whence sprang the "Idea of Beauty" into birth, (Falling in wreaths thro' many a startled star, Like woman's hair 'mid pearls, until, afar, It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt) She looked into Infinity-and knelt. Of other beauty glittering thro' the light— All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed Of flowers of lilies such as reared the head : On the fair Capo Deucato," and sprang So eagerly around about to hang Upon the flying footsteps of deep pride Of her who loved a mortal-and so died. The Sephalica, budding with young bees, And gemmy flower,“ of Trebizond misnamed Inmate of highest stars, where erst it shamed All other loveliness: its honied dew (The fabled nectar that the heathen knew), Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from heaven, And fell on gardens of the unforgiven So like its own above that, to this hour, She fears to perfume, perfuming the night: While pettish tears adown her petals run: And died, ere scarce exalted into birth, Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing Its way to heaven, from garden of a king: From struggling with the waters of the Rhone: h And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante! Isola d'oro !-Fior di Levante ! And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever; i With Indian Cupid down the holy river Fair flowers, and fairy! to whose care is given k To bear the Goddess' song, in odours, up to heaven : PIRIT! that dwellest where, In the deep sky, The terrible and fair In beauty vie! Beyond the line of blue The boundary of the star Which turneth at the view Of thy barrier and thy bar Of the barrier overgone By the comets who were cast From their pride, and from their throne To be drudges till the last— To be carriers of fire (The red fire of their heart) With speed that may not tire And with pain that shall not part— Who livest-that we know— In Eternity-we feel But the shadow of whose brow What spirit shall reveal? Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace, |