For love, love, love alone, forevermore!”
And “love, love, love,” rang round her as she passed
From sight, with mystic murmurs o’er and o’er
Reverbed from hollow heaven, as from some vast,
Deep-coloured, vaulted, ocean-answering shell.
I, Ivo, had no power to ban or bless,
But was as one withholden by a spell.
Forward she fared in lofty loneliness,
Urged on by an imperious inward stress,
To waste fair Eden, and to drown fierce Hell.