Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/109

 Thought seems to come and go In thy large eyes, imperial Eleänore.

As thunder-clouds that, hung on high, Roof'd the world with doubt and fear, Floating thro' an evening atmosphere. Grow golden all about the sky; In thee all passion becomes passionless, Touch'd by thy spirit's mellowness, Losing his fire and active might In a silent meditation, Falling into a still delight, And luxury of contemplation: As waves that up a quiet cove Rolling slide, and lying still Shadow forth the banks at will: Or sometimes they swell and move, Pressing up against the land, With motions of the outer sea And the self-same influence Controlleth all the soul and sense Of Passion gazing upon thee.