The bright world dim, and everything beside
Seemed like the fleeting image of a shade:
No thought of living spirit could abide
(Which to her looks had ever been betrayed)
On any object in the world so wide,
On any hope within the circling skies,
But in her form, and in her inmost eyes.
* * * * *
“The deep recesses of her odorous dwelling
Were stored with magic treasures—sounds of air,