How may full-sail’d verse express, How may measured words adore The full-flowing harmony Of thy swan-like stateliness, Eleänore? The luxuriant symmetry Of thy floating gracefulness, Eleänore? Every turn and glance of thine, Every lineament divine, Eleänore, And the steady sunset glow, That stays upon thee? For in thee Is nothing sudden, nothing single; Like two streams of incense free From one censer, in one shrine, Thought and motion mingle, Mingle ever. Motions flow To one another, even as tho’[6] They were modulated so To an unheard melody, Which lives about thee, and a sweep Of richest pauses, evermore Drawn from each other mellow-deep; Who may express thee, Eleänore? 5 I stand before thee, Eleänore; I see thy beauty gradually unfold, Daily and hourly, more and more. I muse, as in a trance, the while Slowly, as from a cloud of gold, Comes out thy deep ambrosial smile.[7] I muse, as in a trance, whene’er The languors of thy love-deep eyes Float on to me. _I_ would _I_ were So tranced, so rapt in ecstacies, To stand apart, and to adore, Gazing on thee for evermore, Serene, imperial Eleänore! 6 Sometimes, with most intensity Gazing, I seem to see Thought folded over thought, smiling asleep, Slowly awaken’d, grow so full and deep In thy large eyes, that, overpower’d quite, I cannot veil, or droop my sight, But am as nothing in its light: As tho’[8] a star, in inmost heaven set, Ev’n while we gaze on it, Should slowly round his orb, and slowly grow To a full face, there like a sun remain Fix’d—then as slowly fade again, And draw itself to what it was before; So full, so deep, so slow, Thought seems to come and go In thy large eyes, imperial Eleänore. 7 As thunder-clouds that, hung on high, Roof’d the world with doubt and fear,[9] Floating thro’ an evening atmosphere, Grow golden all about the sky; In thee all passion becomes passionless, Touch’d by thy spirit’s mellowness, Losing his fire and active might In a silent meditation, Falling into a still delight, And luxury of contemplation: As waves that up a quiet cove Rolling slide, and lying still Shadow forth the banks at will:[10] Or sometimes they swell and move, Pressing up against the land, With motions of the outer sea: And the self-same influence Controlleth all the soul and sense Of Passion gazing upon thee. His bow-string slacken’d, languid Love, Leaning his cheek upon his hand,[11] Droops both his wings, regarding thee, And so would languish evermore, Serene, imperial Eleänore. 8