VIII. And high shrine-doors burst through with heated blasts That run before the fluttering tongues of fire; White surf wind-scattered over sails and masts, And ever climbing higher; IX. Squadrons and squares of men in brazen plates, X. So shape chased shape as swift as, when to land XI. I started once, or seemed to start, in pain, Resolved on noble things, and strove to speak, As when a great thought strikes along the brain, XII. And once my arm was lifted to hew down XIII. All those sharp fancies, by down-lapsing thought Streamed onward, lost their edges, and did creep Rolled on each other, rounded, smoothed, and brought Into the gulfs of sleep. XIV. At last methought that I had wandered far In an old wood: fresh-washed in coolest dew, The maiden splendors of the morning star Shook in the steadfast blue. XV. Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and lean Their broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green, XVI. The dim red morn had died, her journey done, Never to rise again. XVII. There was no motion in the dumb dead air, Is not so deadly still XVIII. As that wide forest. Growths of jasmine turned XIX. I knew the flowers, I knew the leaves, I knew The tearful glimmer of the languid dawn On those long, rank, dark wood-walks drenched in dew, Leading from lawn to lawn. The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Poured back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remember to have been Joyful and free from blame. XXI. And from within me a clear under-tone Thrilled through mine ears in that unblissful clime, "Pass freely through! the wood is all thine own, Until the end of time." XXII. At length I saw a lady within call, Stiller than chiselled marble, standing there; A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair. XXIII. Her loveliness with shame and with surprise Froze my swift speech; she turning on my face The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes, Spoke slowly in her place. XXIV. "I had great beauty: ask thou not my name: No one can be more wise than destiny. Many drew swords and died. I brought calamity." Where'er I came XXV. "No marvel, sovereign lady! in fair field, XXVI. But she, with sick and scornful looks averse, To her full height her stately stature draws; "My youth," she said, "was blasted with a curse : This woman was the cause. XXVII. "I was cut off from hope in that sad place, Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears: My father held his hand upon his face: I, blinded with my tears, |