POEMS WRITTEN IN 1817. MARIANNE'S DREAM. I. A PALE Dream came to a Lady fair, And said, "A boon, a boon, I pray! I know the secrets of the air; 2. And things are lost in the glare of day, And thou shalt know of things unknown, 3. At first all deadly shapes were driven And o'er the vast cope of bending heaven And the Lady ever looked to spy 4. And, as towards the east she turned, 5. The sky was blue as the summer sea; The depths were cloudless overhead; The air was calm as it could be; There was no sight or sound of dread, 6. The Lady grew sick with a weight of fear To see that anchor ever hanging, And veiled her eyes. She then did hear The sound as of a dim low clanging; And looked abroad if she might know Was it aught else, or but the flow Of the blood in her own veins to and fro. 7. There was a mist in the sunless air, Which shook as it were with an earth quake shock; But the very weeds that blossomed there The anchor was seen no more on high. 8. But piled around, with summits hid In lines of cloud at intervals, Stood many a mountain pyramid, Among whose everlasting walls Two mighty cities shone, and ever Through the red mist their domes did quiver. 9. On two dread mountains, from whose crest 10. And columns framed of marble white, come From touch of mortal instrument, II. But still the Lady heard that clang And still the mist whose light did hang On those high domes her look she cast. 12. Sudden from out that city sprung A light that made the earth grow red; 13. And hark! a rush, as if the deep Had burst its bonds! behind, She looked And saw over the western steep A raging flood descend, and wind 14. And now those raging billows came Where that fair Lady sate; and she Was borne towards the showering flame Of the whirlpool bore her to and fro. 15. The flames were fiercely vomited From every tower and every dome, O'er that vast flood's suspended foam, 16. The plank whereon that Lady sate Was driven through the chasms, about and about, Between the peaks so desolate Of the drowning mountains, in and out, As the thistle-beard on a whirlwind sailsWhile the flood was filling those hollow vales. 17. At last her plank an eddy crossed, Which now the flood had reached almost ; To hear the fire roar and hiss Through the domes of those mighty palaces. |