And scarce the curves that moved him did untwist;
But o’er them floating, like a globe of mist,
XLI.
His quivering rattles buzzed. With curious eyes,
Williams beheld him gradually advance,
Then grasped a wand, then paused with fixed surprise,
To see the gorgeous radiance, moving, glance
The hues of heaven;—to see, now sink, now rise,
His bending spires,—his wavering colors dance;
And at each change of that deep thrilling hum