But now this day (the tenth) the signal torch103
Streams from the temple; the mysterious swell
Of long-drawn music peals from aisle to porch:—
He leaves the bright hall where the Æsars[15] dwell,
He comes, o'er flowers and fountains to preside,
He comes, the god-spouse to the mortal bride—
He comes, for whom ye watch'd, O lovely band,104
Scatter your flowers before his welcome feet!
Lo, where the temple's holy gates expand,
Haste, O ye nymphs, the bright'ning steps to meet
Why start ye back?—What though the blaze of steel
The form of Mars, the expanding gates reveal—
The face, no helmet crowns with war, displays105
Not that fierce god from whom Etruria fled;
Cull from far softer legends while ye gaze,
Not there the aspect mortal maid should dread!
Have ye no songs from kindred Castaly
Of that bright Wanderer from the Olympian[16] sky,
Who, in Arcadian dells, with silver lute106
Hush'd in delight the nymph and breathless faun?
Or are your cold Etrurian minstrels mute
Of him whom Syria worshipp'd as the Dawn
And Greece as fair Adonis? Hail, O hail!
Scatter your flowers, and welcome to the vale!
Wondering the stranger moves! That fairy land,107
Those forms of dark yet lustrous loveliness,[17]
That solemn seer who leads him by the hand;
The tongue unknown, the joy he cannot guess,
Blend in one marvel every sound and sight;
And in the strangeness doubles the delight.
Young Ægle sits within her palace bower,108
She hears the cymbals clashing from afar—
So Ormuzd's music welcomed in the hour
When the sun hasten'd to his morning-star.
Smile, Star of Morn—he cometh from above!
And twilight melts around the steps of Love.
Save the grey Augur (since the unconscious child109
Sprang to the last kiss of her dying sire)
Those eyes by man's rude presence undefiled,
Had deepen'd into woman's. As a lyre
Hung on unwitness'd boughs, amidst the shade,
And but to air her soul its music made.
Fair was her prison, wall'd with woven flowers,110
In a soft isle embraced by softest waters,
Linnet and lark the sentries to the towers,
And for the guard Etruria's infant daughters;
But stronger far than walls, the antique law,
And more than hosts, religion's shadowy awe.
Thus lone, thus reverenced, the young virgin grew111
Into the age, when on the heart's calm wave
The light winds tremble, and emotions new
Steal to the peace departing childhood gave;
When for the vague Beyond the captive pines,
And the soul misses—what it scarce divines.
Lo where she sits—(and blossoms arch the dome)112
Girt by young handmaids!—Near and nearer swelling
The cymbals sound before the steps that come
O'er rose and hyacinth to the bridal dwelling;
And clear and loud the summer air along
From virgin voices floats the choral song.