1829.] Sleep. 395 



Stood like a dark accuser in that hour, 

 Invokhig vengeance on thine evil strength ? 

 Wert thou the messenger of War and Death 

 To calm and happy shores, that slept secure 

 While thou wert hurrying onward with their doom ? 

 Or didst thou bear within thy guilty bosom 

 The wretched race whose colour is their curse. 

 Torn from their quiet homes and sunny skies. 

 To glut the white, cold tyrants of the west ? 

 — Whither, my busy fancy, wilt thou stray ? 

 Return, return ! and leave me to my task. 



Even in this solitude I found a friend : 

 He was a certain gloomy Florentine, 

 With whom I held communion wild and strange. 

 Drinking deep knowledge. When the ev'ning came. 

 And thfe lamp poured its solitary light. 

 He came, like one uprisen from the dead, 

 Shadowy at first, then strengthening into life. 

 Until he stood distinct before mine eyes : 

 Around his lofty brow the laurel wreathed 

 Its green eternal beauty ; years of grief. 

 Exile, and wandering, and blighted hope, 

 Had laid their wrinkling fingers on that brow. 

 And blanched his cheek, and thinned his flowing hair : 

 Yet was his grief majestic ; no vain tears 

 Dimmed the dark lustre of his thoughtful eye. 

 But, strong in steadfast constancy, he bore 

 His cruel fate, and with prophetic wrath 

 Hurled the dread vengeance that Apollo taught. 

 On fickle Florence and her guilty sons. 

 Alone he stood among his bitter foes — 

 Alone — but not unequal ; and when death 

 Had closed his eyes and stilled his magic voice, 

 Far from the faithless home he loved too well. 

 Still did his awful spirit guard his grave. 

 Like one who watches by a warrior's couch, 

 WhUe deep sleep folds him, when his battle's done. 

 — Do you not love the mariner, who rules 

 The helm that steers you to a port of rest, 

 Making his skill your silent, sleepless guide, 

 Over the pathless waste of unknown waves? 

 And thus I lov'd, and love him. We have soared 

 Thro' infinite space together — we have pierced. 

 In our swift bodiless flight, the dim abysm 

 Where dwell the giant shadows of times past. 



Whom Death hath breathed upon and made immortal. 



***** 



— I hear thee, Mighty Master ! and I come. 

 With shaded eyes, and a quick trembling step. 



Upbear me, or I sink. — * * 



# * # » « 



What strange and ghastly shapes are steaming up 

 Out of the yawning gulf — my shudd'rhig flesh 

 Is full of icicles, and my parted hairs 

 Crawl like young snakes. — * * 



The volumed clouds roll back in murky piles. 

 Leaving a gloomy valley in the midst, 

 As when God cleft the waters, and the chosen 

 Walked the bared depths in safety, while the shark 

 3E2 



