Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds V. A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. A thousand leagues from his,-her native home, She dwelt, begirt with growing Infancy, And an unquiet drooping of the eye As if its lid were charged with unshed tears. What could her grief be?-she had all she loved, And he who had so loved her, was not there To trouble with bad hopes, or evil wish, 120 130 Or ill-repress'd affliction, her pure thoughts. Nor given him cause to deem himself beloved, Upon her mind a spectre of the past. VI. A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.— Her face was fair, but was not that which made 141 The selfsame aspect, and the quivering shock 150 That in the antique Oratory shook His bosom in its solitude; and then As in that hour-a moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced, and then it faded as it came, 160 Not that which was, nor that which should have been- VII. eyes A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. 170 Of melancholy is a fearful gift; What is it but the telescope of truth? Which strips the distance of its phantasies, VIII. A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.- Through that which had been death to many men, And the quick Spirit of the Universe He held his dialogues; and they did teach To him the magic of their mysteries; 180 190 To him the book of Night was opened wide, And voices from the deep abyss reveal'd A marvel and a secret-Be it so. IX. My dream was past; it had no further change. Of these two creatures should be thus traced out To end in madness-both in misery. 200 |