Who, suddenly, should stoop through the smooth wind, And with the balmiest leaves his temples bind; And, ever after, through those regions be In times long past; to sit with them, and talk Of all the chances in their earthly walk; Comparing, joyfully, their plenteous stores Of happiness, to when upon the moors, 390 Benighted, close they huddled from the cold, And shared their famish'd scrips. Thus all out-told Their fond imaginations, saving him Whose eyelids curtain'd up their jewels dim, Endymion: yet hourly had he striven Guarding his forehead, with her round elbow, From low-grown branches, and his footsteps slow From stumbling over stumps and hillocks small; Until they came to where these streamlets fall, Down in the bluebells, or a wren light rustling Among sere leaves and twigs, might all be heard. O magic sleep! O comfortable bird, That broodest o'er the troubled sea of the mind With mingled bubblings and a gentle Till it is hush'd and smooth! O unconfined Restraint! imprison'd liberty! great key To golden palaces, strange minstrelsy, Fountains grotesque, new trees, bespangled Again I'll linger in a sloping mead To hear the speckled thrushes, and see feed Hereat Peona, in their silver source, Shut her pure sorrow-drops with glad exclaim, 490 Or more complete to overwhelm surmise? That I have sigh'd for: with so deadly gasp And took a lute, from which there pulsing No man e'er panted for a mortal love. That but one night had wrought this flow- Commingling with her argent spheres did ery spell; And, sitting down close by, began to muse What it might mean. Perhaps, thought I, Morpheus, In passing here, his owlet pinions shook; Or, it may be, ere matron Night uptook 561 Her ebon urn, young Mercury, by stealth, Had dipt his rod in it: such garland wealth Came not by common growth. Thus on I thought, Until my head was dizzy and distraught. Moreover, through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul; The which became more strange, and Could figure out and to conception bring From such high soaring by a downward glance : So kept me steadfast in that airy trance, And plays about its fancy, till the stings More bluely vein'd, more soft, more whitely sweet Than those of sea-born Venus, when she rose From out her cradle shell. The wind outblows Her scarf into a fluttering pavilion ; 'Tis blue, and over-spangled with a million Of little eyes, as though thou wert to shed, Over the darkest, lushest bluebell bed, 631 Handfuls of daisies.'-'Endymion, how strange! Dream within dream!'-' She took an airy range, And then, towards me, like a very maid, Methought I fainted at the charmed touch, |