And forth she paddles in the very noon Of solemn midnight like an elfin thing, Charm'd into being by the argent moon-- Whose silver light for love of her fair wing Goes with her in the shade, still worshipping Her dainty plumage:--all around her grew A radiant circlet, like a fairy ring; And all behind, a tiny little clue Of light, to guide her back across the waters blue. X. And sure she is no meaner than a fay, Redeem'd from sleepy death, for beauty's sake, By old ordainment:--silent as she lay, Touched by a moonlight wand I saw her wake, And cut her leafy slough, and so forsake The verdant prison of her lily peers, That slept amidst the stars upon the lake-- A breathing shape--restored to human fears, And new-born love and grief--self-conscious of her tears. XI. And now she clasps her wings around her heart, And near that lonely isle begins to glide, Pale as her fears, and oft-times with a start Turns her impatient head from side to side In universal terrors--all too wide To watch; and often to that marble keep Upturns her pearly eyes, as if she spied Some foe, and crouches in the shadows steep That in the gloomy wave go diving fathoms deep. XII. And well she may, to spy that fearful thing All down the dusky walls in circlets wound; Alas! for what rare prize, with many a ring Girding the marble casket round and round? His folded tail, lost in the gloom profound, Terribly darkeneth the rocky base; But on the top his monstrous head is crown'd With prickly spears, and on his doubtful face Gleam his unwearied eyes, red watchers of the place. XIII. Alas! of the hot fires that nightly fall, No one will scorch him in those orbs of spite, So he may never see beneath the wall That timid little creature, all too bright, That stretches her fair neck, slender and white, Invoking the pale moon, and vainly tries Her throbbing throat, as if to charm the night With song--but, hush--it perishes in sighs, And there will be no dirge sad-swelling, though she dies! XIV. She droops--she sinks--she leans upon the lake, Fainting again into a lifeless flower; But soon the chilly springs anoint and wake Her spirit from its death, and with new power She sheds her stifled sorrows in a shower Of tender song, timed to her falling tears-- That wins the shady summit of that tower, And, trembling all the sweeter for its fears, Fills with imploring moan that cruel monster's ears. XV. And, lo! the scaly beast is all deprest, Subdued like Argus by the might of sound-- What time Apollo his sweet lute addrest To magic converse with the air, and bound The many monster eyes, all slumber-drown'd:-- So on the turret-top that watchful Snake Pillows his giant head, and lists profound, As if his wrathful spite would never wake, Charm'd into sudden sleep for Love and Beauty's sake! XVI.