II.

The sunbeam rested, where it pierced the boughs, On locks whose gold reflected back the gleaming; On Thought's fair temple in majestic brows On Love's bright portal--lips that smiled in dreaming.

Dreams he of Nymph half hid in sparry cave? Or of his own Sabrina chastely "sitting Under the glassy cool translucent wave," The loose train of her amber tresses knitting? Or that far shadow, yet but faintly view'd, Where the Four Rivers take their parent springs, Which shall come forth from starry solitude, In the last days of angel-visitings, When, soaring upward from the nether storm, The Heaven of Heavens shall earthly guest receive, And in the long-lost Eden smile thy form, Fairer than all thy daughters, fairest Eve?