The Spirit of Sleep 



Below was a broad golden basin, sunk in the floor, in 

 which the falling fluid tumbled and seethed as molten silver 

 does in the primrose heat of a crucible. Before the foun- 

 tain, on an ebon throne, sat a swarthy giant with dark 

 folded wings ; he was crowned and zoned with gold, and in 

 his hand he held a golden trumpet, which, as I entered, he 

 raised to his lips ; but just as I was preparing to be effec- 

 tually deafened, I heard a gentle dreamy voice from behind 

 the fountain call my name. 



I passed the giant's throne, and going round the fountain, 

 saw that in a channel flowing from the central basin a 

 shadowy shallop rocked upon the glowing stream. 



It was not moored, and would have drifted away through 

 an arch opposite my entrance, but on its prow there stood 

 a dark maiden with a silver paddle, with which she kept its 

 head against the current. Her eyelids drooped, her form 

 was beautiful, but dark as night, and darker still than night 

 the flowing hair contrasted with the loosely flowing robe of 

 snowy white ; and robe and hair floated around her listless 

 arms, she stooping down upon her weary toil. 



She said, nor raised her eyes, " I wait for thee. Come ! " 

 And I entered and sat down ; and she sat down beside me, 

 and said, " I am weary," and threw her languid arms around 

 me, and pillowed her drowsy head upon my shoulder, and 

 clothed me with her wealth of raven tresses. 



Meanwhile, our boat sprang forward through the arch — 

 away — down the rapid stream of fire. 



But where we came to at last, and what we saw by the 

 way, I will not relate, at least for the present, for fear of 

 being tedious ; for I am tired of relating my dream, and 

 there is a hopeless quantity more of it, enough, indeed, if I 

 told it now, to smother the whole description of Cuenca 

 and its environs. 



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