Awhile adjusting their disordered dress, Late somewhat ruffled by their hurried speed; The wide saloon admits the eager press, Who under guidance in slow rank proceed, When to their ear came dulcet pipe or reed, That in the distance seem’d to die away, And thrill’d the heart it did emove indeed With sounds whose swelling notes brooked no delay, But took the imprison’d soul and held it in its sway. XV. Meantime, upon their vision sudden fell A lustrous light all dazzling to behold, As if transported by enchanter’s spell To scenes like that of famed Aladdin told, Where lamps aglittering hung like burnish’d gold; Anon, the lofty and capacious dome Rose to the view in vast dimensions bold, Akin to that famed cupola of Rome That struck frail pigmy man, lost in its greatness dumb. XVI. The walls on each side hung with tapestry, On amber ground in divers colours wove, By fairy fingers wrought so marvellously, Liken to what a Linwood’s needle strove By art to charm, and each emotion move; There nymphs and fawns half hid ’neath foliage seen, Alist’ning Pan’s sweet pipe amid the grove, And flocks white fleeced that cropped th’ unsullied green, With fair Sicilian maids, made one Arcadian scene. XVII. And there were Druids by the gnarled oak, Attendant seen on their night mysteries deep, Mid torchlight’s gleam there awful did invoke, As thro’ their scattered locks the winds did sweep, Wild were their looks while orgies dread they keep With blood-stained arms their muttered spells yblent, And round their victim in contortion leap, No living voice, nor sound, but theirs ylent, Save wood, dark-stream, and blast, like genii moaned assent. XVIII. There eftsoons pricked his way thro’ forest glade, A belted knight intent on val’rous deed, With coat of mail well armed and trusty blade, Borne graceful onward by his snorting steed, Proud curveting impatient to proceed; While merry woodsman with sharp bill and bow, Blithe as the lark that carols ’bove his head; Ere chariot wheels of Phœbus ’gan to glow, Is seen thro’ brushwood copse to start the bounding roe. XIX. The caravan of Eastern climes was there, O’er desert sands pursued its lengthened rout, With stately camels bearing burthen rare, Led in advance by wild accoutred scout, Armed to protect or track the streamlet sought, Certes to them a cheering welcome sound, Delicious more to those who suffer drought From barren soil where stream can scarce be found, No bale so sad have they, whose land with springs abound. XX.