4 ve beneath vnose ransiccent foor Jaei m he level vates a he Renmei in with its mi prepics grey, And whist he outer lake beneath the last Of the wind's scourge, Damet like a wounded hing And the incessant hai with sony clasi Ploughed up the waters, and the fagging wing Of the roused cormorant in the lightning flash Looked like the wreck of some wind-wandering Fragment of inky thunder-smoke-this haven Was as a gem to copy Heaven engraven. LI. On which that lady played her many pranks, Outspeeds the antelopes which speediest are, LII. And then she called out of the hollow turrets Of those high clouds, white, golden and vermilion, The armies of her ministering spirits In mighty legions, million after million, They came, each troop emblazoning its merits Of the intertexture of the atmosphere They pitched upon the plain of the calm mere. LIIL They framed the imperial tent of their great Queen With lambent lightning-fire, as may be seen LIV. And on a throne o'erlaid with starlight, caught Pale as that moon, lost in the watery night — LV. These were tame pleasures; she would often climb The steepest ladder of the crudded rack Up to some beakèd cape of cloud sublime, And like Arion on the dolphin's back Ride singing through the shoreless air;-oft time LVI. And sometimes to those streams of upper air To let her join their chorus. Mortals found LVII. But her choice sport was, in the hours of sleep, To glide adown old Nilus, where he threads Egypt and Æthiopia, from the steep Of utmost Axumè, until he spreads, Like a calm flock of silver-fleeced sheep, His waters on the plain: and crested heads LVIII. By Moeris and the Mareotid lakes, Strewn with faint blooms like bridal chamber floors, Where naked boys bridling tame water-snakes, Or charioteering ghastly alligators, Had left on the sweet waters mighty wakes Of those huge forms—within the brazen doors Of the great Labyrinth slept both boy and beast, Tired with the pomp of their Osirian feast. LIX. And where within the surface of the river Like things which every cloud can doom to die, LX. With motion like the spirit of that wind Whose soft step deepens slumber, her light feet Past through the peopled haunts of human kind, Scattering sweet visions from her presence sweet, |