Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds Clad in a flowing garb did watch the while, 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, Upon her face there was the tint of grief, 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, To trouble with bad hopes, or evil wish, 120 130 Or ill-repress'd affliction, her pure thoughts. What could her grief be?—she had loved him not, Nor given him cause to deem himself beloved, Nor could he be a part of that which prey'd 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 The selfsame aspect, and the quivering shock 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, 141 150 160 Not that which was, nor that which should have been- The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade, And thrust themselves between him and the light: VII. eyes A change came o'er the spirit of my dream. Have a far deeper madness, and the glance 170 Of melancholy is a fearful gift; What is it but the telescope of truth? Which strips the distance of its phantasies, Making the cold reality too real! VIII. A change came o'er the spirit of my dream.- 6 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 |