Voices more dimly deep [_Ep._ 2. Than the inmost heart of sleep, And tenderer than the rose-mouthed morning's lips; And midmost of them heard The viewless water's word, The sea's breath in the wind's wing and the ship's, That bids one swell and sound and smite 79 And rend that other in sunder as with fangs by night. But ah! the glory of shadow and mingling ray, [_Str._ 3. The story of morn and even Whose tale was writ in heaven And had for scroll the night, for scribe the day! For scribe the prophet of the morning, far Exalted over twilight and her star; For scroll beneath his Apollonian hand The dim twin wastes of sea and glimmering land. Hark, on the hill-wind, clear For all men's hearts to hear 90 Sound like a stream at nightfall from the steep That all time's depths might answer, deep to deep, With trumpet-measures of triumphal wail From windy vale to vale, The crying of one for love that strayed and sinned Whose brain took madness of the mountain wind. Between the birds of brighter and duskier wing, [_Ant._ 3. What mightier-moulded forms Girt with red clouds and storms Mix their strong hearts with theirs that soar and sing? 100 Before the storm-blast blown of death's dark horn The marriage moonlight withers, that the morn For two made one may find three made by death One ruin at the blasting of its breath: Clothed with heart's flame renewed And strange new maidenhood, Faith lightens on the lips that bloomed for hire Pure as the lightning of love's first-born fire: Wide-eyed and patient ever, till the curse Find where to fall and pierce, 110 Keen expiation whets with edge more dread A father's wrong to smite a father's head. Borgia, supreme from birth [_Ep._ 3. As loveliest born on earth Since earth bore ever women that were fair; Scarce known of her own house If daughter or sister or spouse; Who holds men's hearts yet helpless with her hair; The direst of divine things made, Bows down her amorous aureole half suffused with shade. 120