Even then he vanished; but his image filled
The void that, hitherto, my spirit felt;
I stood erect—a loving woman, Jove—there, where, before, I knelt.
And all things passed; a dull and opiate blank
Fell, like Nepenthé, blackly on my brain:
I was a living corpse, insensible to pleasure, dead to pain.
I dreamed again: a glorious city rose,
Like Aphrodite, on a summer strand;
Palaces, pyramids and temples stretched away on either hand.
Its harbor, guarded by two massy towers,