So that the Lady's heart beat fast, On those high domes her look she cast. Sudden from out that city sprung A light that made the earth grow red; Two flames that each with quivering tongue Licked its high domes, and overhead Among those mighty towers and fanes Dropped fire, as a volcano rains Its sulphurous ruin on the plains. And hark! a rush, as if the deep Had burst its bonds; she looked behind And saw over the western steep A raging flood descend, and wind And now those raging billows came Of the whirlpool bore her to and fro. The waves were fiercely vomited From every tower and every dome, And dreary light did widely shed O'er that vast flood's suspended foam, Beneath the smoke which hung its night On the stained cope of heaven's light. The plank whereon that Lady sate Was driven through the chasms, about and about, Between the peaks so desolate Of the drowning mountain, in and out, As the thistle-beard on a whirlwind sails ; At last her plank an eddy crost, And bore her to the city's wall, Which now the flood had reached almost; Through the domes of those mighty palaces. The eddy whirled her round and round For it was filled with sculptures rarest, Of winged shapes, whose legions range And as she looked, still lovelier grew Those marble forms;-the sculptor sure Was a strong spirit, and the hue Of his own mind did there endure After the touch, whose power had braided She looked, the flames were dim, the flood Those marble shapes then seemed to quiver, And their lips moved; one seemed to speak, The statues gave a joyous scream, The dizzy flight of that phantom pale Of her dark eyes the dream did creep; TO CONSTANTIA. SINGING. THUS to be lost and thus to sink and die, Perchance were death indeed!-Constantia, turn! In thy dark eyes a power like light doth lie, Even though the sounds which were thy voice, which burn Between thy lips, are laid to sleep; Within thy breath, and on thy hair, like odour it is yet, And from thy touch like fire doth leap. Even while I write, my burning cheeks are wet, Alas, that the torn heart can bleed, but not forget! A breathless awe, like the swift change Thou breathest now in fast ascending numbers Beyond the mighty moons that wane Upon the verge of nature's utmost sphere, Till the world's shadowy walls are past and disappear Her voice is hovering o'er my soul-it lingers O'ershadowing it with soft and lulling wings, The blood and life within those snowy fingers Teach witchcraft to the instrumental strings. My brain is wild, my breath comes quick— The blood is listening in my frame, And thronging shadows, fast and thick, Fall on my overflowing eyes; My heart is quivering like a flame; As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies, I am dissolved in these consuming ecstasies. I have no life, Constantia, now, but thee, Whilst, like the world-surrounding air, thy song On which, like one in trance upborne, Rejoicing like a cloud of morn. Now 'tis the breath of summer night, Which, when the starry waters sleep Round western isles with incense-blossoms bright, Lingering, suspends my soul in its voluptuous flight. |