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Wert thou disjoined from these, or they from thee)— If thine or theirs were treasures to be bought By blood or tears, have not the wise and free Wept tears, and blood like tears?"—The solemn harmony
Paused, and the Spirit of that mighty singing
To its abyss was suddenly withdrawn.
As a brief insect dies with dying day;
Drooped. O'er it closed the echoes far away Of the great voice which did its flight sustain,— As waves which lately paved his watery way Hiss round a drowner's head in their tempestuous play.
From her couch of snows
In the Acroceraunian mountains,—
Shepherding her bright fountains.
Streaming among the streams;
Her steps paved with green
Which slopes to the western gleams:
In murmurs as soft as sleep.
The Earth seemed to love her,
As she lingered towards the deep.
Then Alpheus bold,
On his glacier cold, With his trident the mountains strook,
And opened a chasm
In the rocks:—with the spasm All Erymanthus shook.
And the black south wind
It concealed behind The urns of the silent snow,
And earthquake and thunder
Did rend in sunder
The beard and the hair
Of the River-god were Seen through the torrent's sweep,
As he followed the light
Of the fleet Nymph's flight To the brink of the Dorian deep.
For he grasps me now by the hair!"
And divided at her prayer;
Fled like a sunny beam;
Behind her descended
With the brackish Dorian stream.
Alpheus rushed behind,—
Down the streams of the cloudy wind.
Under the bowers
Sit on their pearled thrones;
Through the coral woods
Over heaps of unvalued stones;
Weave a network of coloured light;
Are as green as the forest's night:
Under the ocean foam,
And up through the rifts
They passed to their Dorian home.
And now from their fountains
In Enna's mountains,
Like friends once parted
At sunrise they leap
From their cradles steep
At noontide they flow
Through the woods below,
And at night they sleep
In the rocking deep
Like spirits that lie
In the azure sky,
HYMN OF APOLLO.
From the broad moonlight of the sky,
iI. Then I arise, and, climbing heaven's blue dome,
I walk over the mountains and the waves, Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam ;—
My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves Are filled with my bright presence; and the air Leaves the green Earth to my embraces bare.
111. The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill
Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day;
Fly me, and from the glory of rrty ray
I feed the clouds, the rainbows, and the flowers,
And the pure stars in their eternal bowers,
Whatever lamps on earth or heaven may shine
Are portions of one power, which is mine.
v. I stand at noon upon the peak of heaven;
Then with unwilling steps I wander down Into the clouds of the Atlantic even;
For grief that I depart they weep and frown. What look is more delightful than the smile With which I soothe them from the western isle? VI.
I am the eye with which the universe
All harmony of instrument or verse,
All light of art or nature ;—to my song
Victory and praise in its own right belong.
HYMN OF PAN.
From the forests and highlands
We come, we come;
The bees on the bells of thyme,
Liquid Peneus was flowing,
The light of the dying day,
And the Nymphs of the woods and waves,
I sang of the dancing stars,
I sang of the daedal earth,
And love, and death, and birth.