Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/68



When all was darken'd, with Ætnean throe The earth closed—gave a solitary moan— And left him once again in twilight lone.


 * He did not rave, he did not stare aghast,

For all those visions were o'ergone, and past, And he in loneliness: he felt assured Of happy times, when all he had endured Would seem a feather to the mighty prize. So, with unusual gladness, on he hies Through caves, and palaces of mottled ore, Gold dome, and crystal wall, and turquoiseturquoise floor [sic], Black polish'd porticoes of awful shade, And, at the last, a diamond balustrade, Leading afar past wild magnificence, Spiral through ruggedest loop-holes, and thence Stretching across a void, then guiding o'er Enormous chasms, where, all foam and roar, Streams subterranean tease their granite beds Then heighten'd just above the silvery heads Of a thousand fountains, so that he could dash The waters with his spear; but at the splash, Done heedlessly, those spouting columns rose Sudden a poplar's height, and 'gan to inclose His diamond path with fretwork streaming round Alike, and dazzling cool, and with a sound, Haply, like dolphin tumults, when sweet shells Welcome the float of Thetis. Long he dwells On this delight; for, every minute's space, The streams with changed magic interlace: Sometimes like delicatest lattices, Cover'd with crystal vines; then weeping trees,