A spot of dull stagnation, without light Or power of movement, seem'd my soul, 'Mid onward-sloping [42] motions infinite Making for one sure goal.

A still salt pool, lock'd in with bars of sand; Left on the sh.o.r.e; that hears all night The plunging seas draw backward from the land Their moon-led waters white.

A star that with the choral starry dance Join'd not, but stood, and standing saw The hollow orb of moving Circ.u.mstance Roll'd round by one fix'd law.

Back on herself her serpent pride had curl'd.

"No voice," she shriek'd in that lone hall, "No voice breaks thro' the stillness of this world: One deep, deep silence all!"

She, mouldering with the dull earth's mouldering sod, Inwrapt tenfold in slothful shame, Lay there exiled from eternal G.o.d, Lost to her place and name;

And death and life she hated equally, And nothing saw, for her despair, But dreadful time, dreadful eternity, No comfort anywhere;

Remaining utterly confused with fears, And ever worse with growing time, And ever unrelieved by dismal tears, And all alone in crime:

Shut up as in a crumbling tomb, girt round With blackness as a solid wall, Far off she seem'd to hear the dully sound Of human footsteps fall.

As in strange lands a traveller walking slow, In doubt and great perplexity, A little before moon-rise hears the low Moan of an unknown sea;

And knows not if it be thunder or a sound Of rocks [43] thrown down, or one deep cry Of great wild beasts; then thinketh, "I have found A new land, but I die".

She howl'd aloud, "I am on fire within.

There comes no murmur of reply.

What is it that will take away my sin, And save me lest I die?"

So when four years were wholly finished, She threw her royal robes away.

"Make me a cottage in the vale," she said, "Where I may mourn and pray. [44]

"Yet pull not down my palace towers, that are So lightly, beautifully built: Perchance I may return with others there When I have purged my guilt." [45]

[Footnote 1: 1833.

I chose, whose ranged ramparts bright From great broad meadow bases of deep gra.s.s.]

[Footnote 2: 1833. "While the great world."]

[Footnote 3: "The shadow of Saturn thrown upon the bright ring that surrounds the planet appears motionless, though the body of the planet revolves. Saturn rotates on its axis in the short period of ten and a half hours, but the shadow of this swiftly whirling ma.s.s shows no more motion than is seen in the shadow of a top spinning so rapidly that it seems to be standing still." Rowe and Webb's note, which I gladly borrow.]

[Footnote 4: 1833 and 1842. Steadfast.]

[Footnote 5: After this stanza in 1833 this, deleted in 1842:--

"And richly feast within thy palace hall, Like to the dainty bird that sups, Lodged in the l.u.s.trous crown-imperial, Draining the honey cups."]

[Footnote 6: In 1833 these eight stanzas were inserted after the stanza beginning, "I take possession of men's minds and deeds"; in 1842 they were transferred, greatly altered, to their present position. For the alterations on them see 'infra.']

[Footnote 7: 1833.

Gloom, Roofed with thick plates of green and orange gla.s.s Ending in stately rooms.]

[Footnote 8: 1833.

All various, all beautiful, Looking all ways, fitted to every mood.]

[Footnote 9: Here in 1833 was inserted the stanza, "One showed an English home," afterwards transferred to its present position 85-88.]

[Footnote 10: 1833.

Some were all dark and red, a glimmering land Lit with a low round moon, Among brown rocks a man upon the sand Went weeping all alone.]

[Footnote 11: These three stanzas were added in 1842.]

[Footnote 12: Thus in 1833:--

One seemed a foreground black with stones and slags, Below sun-smitten icy spires Rose striped with long white cloud the scornful crags, Deep trenched with thunder fires.]

[Footnote 13: Not inserted here in 1833, but the following in its place:--

Some showed far-off thick woods mounted with towers, Nearer, a flood of mild sunshine Poured on long walks and lawns and beds and bowers Trellised with bunchy vine.]

[Footnote 14: Inserted in 1842.]

[Footnote 15: Thus in 1833, followed by the note:--

Or the maid-mother by a crucifix, In yellow pastures sunny-warm, Beneath branch-work of costly sardonyx, Sat smiling, babe in arm.

When I first conceived the plan of the Palace of Art, I intended to have introduced both sculptures and paintings into it; but it is the most difficult of all things to 'devise' a statue in verse. Judge whether I have succeeded in the statues of Elijah and Olympias.

One was the Tishbite whom the raven fed, As when he stood on Carmel steeps, With one arm stretched out bare, and mocked and said, "Come cry aloud-he sleeps".

Tall, eager, lean and strong, his cloak wind-borne Behind, his forehead heavenly bright From the clear marble pouring glorious scorn, Lit as with inner light.

One, was Olympias: the floating snake Rolled round her ancles, round her waist Knotted, and folded once about her neck, Her perfect lips to taste.

Round by the shoulder moved: she seeming blythe Declined her head: on every side The dragon's curves melted and mingled with The woman's youthful pride Of rounded limbs.

Or Venus in a snowy sh.e.l.l alone, Deep-shadowed in the gla.s.sy brine, Moonlike glowed double on the blue, and shone A naked shape divine.]