Vapour-like, woman-like, Gleaming and gone! Gleaming a moment, Then fading away; Tombed in the ripple, Born in the ray; Ever he saw their ghosts, Changeful and mournful hosts, Through the waves peering, Pointing their misty hands, Gibing and jeering; Then to the starry maze Turned his weak human gaze, Blinded by tears; Felt on the stormy sea Of his soul's agony, Dew-like serenity, Drop from the spheres. X. Ship-like, full-breasted, Travelled the moon, Swift as a gondola In a lagoon, Through the cloud-highlands In silvery glow, Through the white islands Of turretted snow. Beautiful! Beautiful! How could he dare Ruffle with Passion The placid night air Or gaze on the moonlight With his despair? Lovely, most lovely! How could he stand There, in the sight of Heaven, Clenching his hand; Fuming and fretting At Fate's iron bars, An atom! a grain of dust! Chiding the stars? Beautiful! Beautiful! Peace on its beams, Slid like a seraph Into his dreams. The mists of his spirit Were rent and withdrawn, Beautiful! Beautiful! Welcome the dawn! XI. In gold and in purple, In amber and grey, Under the steeple vanes, Eastward away, Over the house-tops Blushed the new day. Filling not wholly Heaven's azure cup, But faintly and slowly Morn travelled up. The moonlight received it, And died in a swound; Hesperus saw it And vanished, discrowned Steeple and pinnacle, Turret and spire, Crowded and countless As flames in a fire; All the great city, As far as the sight, Emerged into morning And glimmer'd in light. XII. Smokeless-and voiceless Majestic and fair No roar of its whirlpool Of struggle and care, Broke the sweet silence Enfolding the air. Peace might have made it A palace and dome, Could our wild passions Allow it a home. Peace! no; it cannot rest On the earth's teeming breast; War is our life! Sleep is the truce of God Plucked from the strife! To-morrow, that comes not, Shall Peace have her throne! Low in the sleepy air Trumpets are blown ;— Wake thee, great city, To-day is thine own. |