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Sphere within sphere; and every space between
Peopled with unimaginable shapes, Such as ghosts dream dwell in the lampless deep,
Yet each inter transpicuous, and they whirl
Over each other with a thousand motions, Upon a thousand sightless axles spinning,
And with the force of self-destroying swiftness,
Intensely, slowly, solemnly roll on, Kindling with mingled sounds, and many tones,
Intelligible words and music wild. With mighty whirl the multitudinous orb
Grinds the bright brook into an azure mist
Of elemental subtlety, like light:
Round its intense yet self-conflicting speed,
Seem kneaded into one aërial mass Which drowns the sense. Within the orb itself,
Pillowed upon its alabaster arms, Like to a child o'erwearied with sweet toil,
On its own folded wings, and wavy hair, The Spirit of the Earth is laid asleep, And you can see its little lips are moving, Amid the changing light of their own
Like one who talks of what he loves in dream.
Ione. T is only mocking the orb's
Like swords of azure fire, or golden spears
With tyrant-quelling myrtle overtwined, Embleming heaven and earth united
Thou art folded, thou art lying In the light which is undying Of thine own joy, and heaven's smile divine ;
All suns and constellations shower On thee a light, a life, a power Which doth array thy sphere; thou pourest thine
On mine, on mine!
I spin beneath my pyramid of night. Which points into the heavens dreaming delight, Murmuring victorious joy in my enchanted sleep;
As a youth lulled in love-dreams faintly sighing, Under the shadows of his beauty lying. Which round his rest a watch of light and warmth doth keep.
As in the soft and sweet eclipse,
When soul meets soul on lovers' lips, High hearts are calm, and brightest eyes are dull;
So when thy shadow falls on me, Then am I mute and still, by thee Covered; of thy love, Orb most beautiful, Full, oh, too full!
Thou art speeding round the sun