Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/187



thou a charm to stay the Morning-Star In his steep course? So long he seems to pause On thy bald awful head, O sovran ! The Arve and Arveiron at thy base Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful Form! Risest from forth thy silent Sea of Pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black. An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity!