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One act a phantom of succession : thus
But in the shadow will we work, and mould
The woman to the fuller day.'
With kindled eyes : we rode a league beyond,
Pitch our pavilion here upon the sward ;
With fair Corinna's triumph ; here she stood,
The bearded Victor of ten-thousand hymns,
And all the men mourn’d at his side : but we
Set forth to climb; then, climbing, Cyril kept
With Psyche, with Melissa Florian, I
With mine affianced. Many a little hand
Glanced like a touch of sunshine on the rocks,
Many a light foot shone like a jewel set
In the dark crag: and then we turn'd, we wound
About the cliffs, the copses, out and in,
Hammering and clinking, chattering stony names
Of shale and hornblende, rag
Amygdaloid and trachyte, till the Sun
Grew broader toward his death and fell, and all
The rosy heights came out above the lawns.
The splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
O hark, o hear ! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going !
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing !
O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
And grow for ever and for ever.
• THERE sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun,
If that hypothesis of theirs be sound'
Said Ida ; let us down and rest :' and we
Down from the lean and wrinkled precipices,
By every coppice-feather'd chasm and cleft,
Dropt thro' the ambrosial gloom to where below
But when we planted level feet, and dipt
Beneath the satin dome and enter'd in,
There leaning deep in broider'd down we sank
Our elbows : on a tripod in the midst
A fragrant flame rose, and before us glow'd
Then she . Let some one sing to us : lightlier move The minutes fledged with music :' and a maid,
Of those beside her, smote her harp, and sang.
“ Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
“ Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge ;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
“Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns