So snapped at once that music’s golden thread.”
In the following stanzas on “The Falcon”—used as a metaphor for Truth—there is a captivating multiplicity of figures,—
“I know a falcon swift and peerless
As e’er was cradled in the pine;
No bird had ever eye so fearless,
Or wing so strong as this of mine.
“The winds not better love to pilot
A cloud with molten gold o’errun,
Than him, a little burning islet,
A star above the coming sun.