"
XLVI.
Still, fixed on heaven, her earnest eye, all dew,
Seemed as it sought amid the lamps of night
For him her soul addressed; but other view
Far different--sudden from that pensive plight
Recalled her: quick as on primeval gloom
Burst the new day-star, when the Eternal bid,
Appeared, and glowing filled the dusky room,
As 'twere a brillant cloud; the form it hid
Modest emerged, as might a youth beseem;
Save a slight scarf, his beauty bare, and white
As cygnet's bosom on some silver stream;
Or young narcissus, when to woo the light
Of its _first_ morn, that flowret open springs;--
And near the maid he comes with timid gaze
And gently fans her, with his full spread wings
Transparent as the cooling gush that plays
From ivory fount. Each bright prismatic tint
Still vanishing, returning, blending, changing,
Glowed, from their fibrous mystic texture glint,
Like colours o'er the full-blown bubble ranging
That pretty urchins launch upon the air
And laugh to see it vanish; yet, so bright,
More like--and even that were faint compare,
As shaped from some new rain-bow; rosy light
Like that which pagans say the dewy car
Precedes of their Aurora, clipp'd him round
Retiring as he mov'd; and evening's star
Shamed not the diamond coronal that bound
His curly locks.
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