Oblivion may not cover All treasures hoarded by the miser, Time. Orphean Insight! truth's undaunted lover, 115 To the first leagues of tutored passion climb, When Music deigned within this grosser sphere Her subtle essence to enfold, And voice and shell drew forth a tear Softer than Nature's self could mould. 120 Yet _strenuous_ was the infant Age: Art, daring because souls could feel, Stirred nowhere but an urgent equipage Of rapt imagination sped her march Through the realms of woe and weal: 125 Hell to the lyre bowed low; the upper arch Rejoiced that clamorous spell and magic verse Her wan disasters could disperse.[575] IX The GIFT to king Amphion That walled a city with its melody 130 Was for belief no dream:[576]--thy skill, Arion! Could humanise the creatures of the sea, Where men were monsters.[577] A last grace he craves, Leave for one chant;--the dulcet sound Steals from the deck o'er willing waves, 135 And listening dolphins gather round.[578] Self-cast, as with a desperate course, 'Mid that strange audience, he bestrides A proud One docile as a managed horse; And singing, while the accordant hand 140 Sweeps his harp, the Master rides; So shall he touch at length a friendly strand, And he, with his preserver, shine star-bright In memory, through silent night. X The pipe of Pan, to shepherds 145 Couched in the shadow of Mænalian pines,[579] Was passing sweet; the eyeballs of the leopards, That in high triumph drew the Lord of vines, How did they sparkle to the cymbal's clang! While Fauns and Satyrs beat the ground 150 In cadence,[580]--and Silenus swang This way and that, with wild-flowers crowned.[581] To life, to _life_ give back thine ear: Ye who are longing to be rid Of fable, though to truth subservient, hear 155 The little sprinkling of cold earth that fell Echoed from the coffin-lid; The convict's summons in the steeple's knell; "The vain distress-gun,"[582] from a leeward shore, Repeated-heard, and heard no more! 160 XI