The wonder—and the Way?
CHAPTER XXIII
Panthea. Look, sister, where a troop of spirits gather
Like flocks of cloud in spring’s delightful weather,
Thronging in the blue air!
Ione. And see! More come.
Like fountain-vapours when the winds are dumb,
That climb up the ravines in scattered lines.
And hark! Is it the music of the pines?
Is it the lake? Is it the waterfall?