So write) the pale magician of the bow,
Who brought from Italy the tales, made true,
Of Grecian lyres; and on his sphery hand,
Loading the air with dumb expectancy,
Suspended, ere it fell, a nation's breath;
"Of witches' dance, ghastly with whinings thin,
And palsied nods--mirth, wicked, sad, and weak;
And then with show of skill mechanical,
Marvellous as witchcraft he would overthrow
That vision with a show'r of notes like hail;