A VISION OF POETS.
189
Of bright devices is unrolled
Still upward, with a gradual gold,—
So rose the vision manifold,
Still upward, with a gradual gold,—
So rose the vision manifold,
Angel and organ, and the round
Of spirits, solemnised and crowned,—
While the freed clouds of incense wound
Of spirits, solemnised and crowned,—
While the freed clouds of incense wound
Ascending, following in their track,
And glimmering faintly, like the rack
O' the moon, in her own light cast hack.
And glimmering faintly, like the rack
O' the moon, in her own light cast hack.
And as that solemn Dream withdrew,
The lady's kiss did fall anew
Cold on the poet's brow as dew.
The lady's kiss did fall anew
Cold on the poet's brow as dew.
And that same kiss which bound him first
Beyond the senses, now reversed
Its own law, and most subtly pierced
Beyond the senses, now reversed
Its own law, and most subtly pierced
His spirit with the sense of things
Sensual and present. Vanishings
Of glory, with Æolian wings
Sensual and present. Vanishings
Of glory, with Æolian wings
Struck him and passed: the lady's face
Did melt back in the chrysopras
Of the orient morning sky that was
Did melt back in the chrysopras
Of the orient morning sky that was
Yet clear of lark,—and there and so
She melted as a star might do,
Still smiling as she melted—slow!
She melted as a star might do,
Still smiling as she melted—slow!
Smiling so slow, he seemed to see
Her smile the last thing, gloriously,
Beyond her—far as memory!
Her smile the last thing, gloriously,
Beyond her—far as memory!
Then he looked round! he was alone—
He lay before the breaking sun,
As Jacob at the Bethel stone.
He lay before the breaking sun,
As Jacob at the Bethel stone.
And thought's entangled skein being wound,
He knew the moorland of his swound,
And the pale pools that seared the ground,—
He knew the moorland of his swound,
And the pale pools that seared the ground,—
