And thronging shadows, fast and thick, As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies, I am dissolved in these consuming ecstasies. IV. I have no life, Constantia, now, but thee, Whilst, like the world-surrounding air, thy song Flows on, and fills all things with melody.Now is thy voice a tempest swift and strong, On which, like one in trance upborne, Secure o'er rocks and waves I sweep, Rejoicing like a cloud of morn. Now 'tis the breath of summer night, Which when the starry waters sleep, Round western isles, with incense-blossoms bright, Lingering, suspends my soul in its voluptuous flight. Singing Y spirit like a charmèd bark doth swim Upon the liquid waves of thy sweet singing, Far away into the regions dim Of rapture —as a boat, with swift sails wing ing Its way adown some many-winding river. A Fragment: To Music ԱՐ ILVER key of the fountain of tears, Where the spirit drinks till the brain is wild; Softest grave of a thousand fears, Where their mother, Care, like a drowsy child, Is laid asleep in flowers. Music O, Music, thou art not the "food of Love," Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self, Till it becomes all Music murmurs of. "Mighty Eagle" Supposed to Be Addressed to William Godwin IGHTY eagle! thou that soarest And when night descends defiest THE END 386 |
