And she seemed like to drown in ecstasy.
Yet, as the tempest sank in calm at last,
She rose from out the foam of love, new-born--
As Venus from the irised surf of morn--
To such triumphant beauty, Geoffrey, thralled,
Before her stood in wonder rooted fast;
Even his love within him bowed appalled
In tongueless worship as he gazed on her;
While, lily-like, the trancèd flowers among,
She stood, love-radiant, and above her hung