Where, through the leaves of myriad forest trees, The daylight falls, beryl and chrysoprase, The glamour and the glimmer of its rays Seem visible music, tangible melodies: Light that is music; music that one sees— Wagnerian music—where forever sways The spirit of romance, and gods and fays Take form, clad on with dreams and mysteries. And now the wind's transmuting necromance Touches the light and makes it fall and rise, Vocal, a harp of multitudinous waves That speaks as ocean speaks—an utterance Of far-off whispers, mermaid-murmuring sighs— Pelagian, vast, deep-down in coral caves. |