He bent on me twin eyes: and spake.
Then did the whirling stars and heavenly globes,
The ravenous winds, awake,
And hang in poise ecstatic. Sweet upon
My aching ears, incontinent of such bliss
Celestial, there awoke a halcyon
Of various, high, mellifluous harmony:
In measures like to this:
“Wouldst thou my Name,
Mortal immortal; wouldst acquaint thy thought