Likewise the deepset windows, stained and traced. Burned, like slow-flaming crimson fires, From shadowed grots of arches interlaced, And topped with frostlike spires. [27] 1833. There deep-haired Milton like an angel tall Stood limnèd, Shakspeare bland and mild, Grim Dante pressed his lips, and from the wall The bald blind Homer smiled. Recast in its present form in 1842. After this stanza in 1833 appear the following stanzas, excised in 1842:— And underneath fresh carved in cedar wood, Somewhat alike in form and face, The Genii of every climate stood, All brothers of one race: Angels who sway the seasons by their art, And mould all shapes in earth and sea; And with great effort build the human heart From earliest infancy. And in the sun-pierced Oriels’ coloured flame Immortal Michæl Angelo Looked down, bold Luther, large-browed Verulam, The King of those who know.[A] Cervantes, the bright face of Calderon, Robed David touching holy strings, The Halicarnassean, and alone, Alfred the flower of kings. Isaiah with fierce Ezekiel, Swarth Moses by the Coptic sea, Plato, Petrarca, Livy, and Raphael, And eastern Confutzer. [A] Il maëstro di color chi sanno.—Dante, _Inf._, iii. [28] Homer. _Cf._ Pope’s _Temple of Fame_, 183-7:— Father of verse in holy fillets dress’d, His silver beard wav’d gently o’er his breast, Though blind a boldness in his looks appears, In years he seem’d but not impaired by years. [29] All these stanzas were added in 1842. In 1833 appear the following stanzas, excised in 1842:— As some rich tropic mountain, that infolds All change, from flats of scattered palms Sloping thro’ five great zones of climate, holds His head in snows and calms— Full of her own delight and nothing else, My vain-glorious, gorgeous soul Sat throned between the shining oriels, In pomp beyond control; With piles of flavorous fruits in basket-twine Of gold, upheaped, crushing down Musk-scented blooms—all taste—grape, gourd or pine— In bunch, or single grown— Our growths, and such as brooding Indian heats Make out of crimson blossoms deep, Ambrosial pulps and juices, sweets from sweets Sun-changed, when sea-winds sleep. With graceful chalices of curious wine, Wonders of art—and costly jars, And bossed salvers. Ere young night divine Crowned dying day with stars, Making sweet close of his delicious toils, She lit white streams of dazzling gas, And soft and fragrant flames of precious oils In moons of purple glass Ranged on the fretted woodwork to the ground. Thus her intense untold delight, In deep or vivid colour, smell and sound, Was nattered day and night.[A] [A] If the poem were not already too long, I should have inserted in the text the following stanzas, expressive of the joy wherewith the soul contemplated the results of astronomical experiment. In the centre of the four quadrangles rose an immense tower.