Up ’mid the boughs the zephyrs went a-playing, Making the stars like swinging cressets seem; And from the east came silver arrows straying Of Dian at her moonrise; while a stream Of melody, the Bulbul, rose-embowered, Incessant through the dew-tipt leaflets showered, Sweeter than any dream. No earthly night, Mantled with dismal light This paradise; but a broad lovely moon, Made a glad twilight here, Unsoiled by any fear, Or harsh intruding doubt, that comes too soon, And lays our bright-eyed hopes upon a cypress bier. Anon, emerging from the woody maze, There sudden sprang upon the pleased vision, Glimpses of far Elysian, Green meadows glowing through a golden haze, And far-meandering walks, that rose and fell ’Twixt bedded asphodel. And purling brooks went leaping here and there Over the flowered slopes all in a foam, Pealing like vesper bells that win the prayer— Or silver voices calling loved ones home; And many bees enringed the fragrant thyme, And windy melodies stirred every full-leaved lime. Here flowers grew in circles round and round, With broad, rich petals for queen’s gathering, There fountains sprang up with a clear, quick sound From vases, such as Babylonian king Ne’er saw the like of; and their spray did fling O’er pure white statues having marble care Over the showered pearls and moistened air. And ever as we past there ever grew Wondrous variety to stir the sense, Begetting impotence Of fond expression, but a rapture true Claspt all the spirit in a dreamy fold Of ecstasy and gold. Until, through shady ranges of tall trees, Threaded by every breeze, And well-determined beds of every hue, Orange, vermeil, and blue, A central, templed hill, was near espied, Down-slanting to the sea on every side, With greensward terraces and blooming meet, Sloped even to our feet. Over the lawns were Dryads tripping far, And Hamadryads peeping from the wood, And now and then a Naiad, like a star; And all were clothed in a merry mood— For not a care there was o’er which to solely brood. Upon the summit, soothed with lasting ease, Sat the Hesperides Beneath the orchard trees— Sipping the beakered nectar seasoned well, And temperate hydromel; And tasting luscious fruitage, such as fell From boughs ’neath which the scaly dragon rolled, Lay glaring fold in fold. “O can we herein bide!” the lady said, “I feel my head doth swim— My weary eyes are dim— With too much pleasure is the sense o’erfed; How can we herein bide, And not some ill betide!”