And even the heavens, wherein one star shone clear,
Seemed leaning nearer, his glad song to hear,
To which its wild star throbbed, all golden-pale:
And after which, deep in the purple vale,
Awoke the passion of the nightingale.
III
As one hath seen a green-gowned huntress fair,
Morn in her cheeks and midnight in her hair;
Keen eyes as gray as rain, young limbs as lithe
As the wild fawn's; and silvery voice as blithe