Then the moon-lady softly unwound
The girdle of arms interlaced,
And the gold of her tresses unbound,
Till it fell from her head to her waist,
And then from her waist to the ground.
“Love, thou art mine, thou art mine,”
Softly she uttered a spell;
“Under the froth is the wine,
Under the ocean is hell,
Over the ocean stars shine.
“Lull him, ye winds of the South,
Charm him, ye rivers that sing,
Flowers be the kiss on his mouth,
Let his heart be the heart of the spring,
And his passion the hot summer drouth.”
Swiftly extending her hands,
She made a gold dome of her hair;
Dumb with amazement he stands,
Till down, without noise in the air,
The moon-car descends to the sands.
He taketh her fingers in his,
Shorn of his strength and his will;
His brave heart trembles with bliss—
Trembles and will not be still,
Mad with the wine of her kiss.
They mount in the car, and its beams
Shoot over the sea and the earth,
And clothe in a net-work of dreams
The mountains where rivers have birth,
And the lakes that are fed by the streams.
Swiftly ascending, the car
Silvers the clouds in its flight,
Piercing the ether afar
Up to a bridge out of sight
That skirteth the path of a star.
One end of the bridge lay on land,
The other hung over the deep;
It was fashioned of ropes of grey sand,
And cemented together with sleep,
With its undergirths formed like a hand.
Pleasant the land to the sight,
Laden with blossoms and trees,
And the grasses to left and to right
Waved in the wind like the seas,
When the blue day is high in the height.
Under the breezy bowers
Cushions of moss were laid,
And ever through sultry hours
Fairy-like fountains played,
Cooling the earth with their showers.