Swept the witch-haunted forest to its verge,
That shook and sighed and stammered, as, in sleep,
A giant half-aroused: and, with a leap,
That samite-hazy creature, blossom-white,
Showered mocking kisses down; then, like a light
Beat into gusty flutterings by the dawn,
Then quenched, she glimmered and, behold, was gone;
And in Brécèliande I stood alone
Gazing at Merlin, sitting on a stone;
Old Merlin, charmed there, dreaming drowsy dreams;