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'Tis dark: quick pattereth the flaw-blown sleet: “ This is no dream, my bride, my Madeline!” 'Tis dark: the iced gusts still rave and beat : " No dream, alas! alas! and woe is mine! Porphyro will leave me here to fade and pine. Cruel! what traitor could thee hither bring? I curse not, for my heart is lost in thine,
Though thou forsakest a deceived thing; A dove forlorn and lost with sick unpruned wing.”
My Madeline ! sweet dreamer ! lovely bride!
Saving of thy sweet self; if thou think’st well To trust, fair Madeline, to no rude infidel."
“ Hark! 'tis an elfin storm from faery land,
Awake! arise ! my love, and fearless be,
She hurried at his words, beset with fears,
all the house was heard no human sound. A chain-droop'd lamp was flickering by each
door; The arras, rich with horseman, hawk, and hound,
Flutter'd in the besieging wind's uproar; And the long carpets rose along the gusty floor.
They glide, like phantoms, into the wide hall !
The chains lie silent on the footworn stones;
And they are gone : ay, ages long ago
The Beadsman, after thousand aves told,
EEP in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star, Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone, Still as the silence round about his lair; Forest on forest hung about his head Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there, Not so much life as on a summer's day Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass, But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest. A stream went voiceless by, still deadend more By reason of his fallen divinity Spreading a shade : the Naiad ʼmid her reeds Press’d her cold finger closer to her lips.
Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went, No further than to where his feet had stray’d, And slept there since. Upon the sodden ground His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead, Unsceptred; and his realınless eyes were closed ; While his bow'd head seem'd listening to the Earth, His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.
It seem'd no force could wake him from his place; But there came one, who with a kindred hand Touch'd his wide shoulders, after bending low With reverence, though to one who knew it not. She was a Goddess of the infant world;
By her in stature the tall Amazon
say, • () wherefore sleepest thou ?'
O aching time! O moments big as years !
As when, upon a tranced summer-night, Those green-robed senators of mighty woods, Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars, Dream, and so dream all night without a stir, Save from one gradual solitary gust Which comes upon the silence, and dies off, As if the ebbing air had but one wave : So came these words and went; the while in tears She touch'd her fair large forehead to the ground, Just where her falling hair might be outspread A soft and silken mat for Saturn's feet. One moon, with alteration slow, had shed Her silver seasons four upon the night, And still these two were postured motionless, Like natural sculpture in cathedral cavern; The frozen God still couchant on the earth, And the sad Goddess weeping at his feet : Until at length old Saturn lifted up His faded eyes, and saw his kingdom gone, And all the gloom and sorrow of the place, And that fair kneeling Goddess; and then spake As with a palsied tongue, and while his beard Shook horrid with such aspen-malady: - O tender spouse of gold Hyperion, Thea, I feel thee ere I see thy face ; Look up, and let me see our doom in it; Look up, and tell me if this feeble shape Is Saturn's ; tell me, if thou hear'st the voice Of Saturn; tell me, if this wrinkling brow,