Like silver scales of serpenthood they fall
Across the blind air of the evening ;
Shadowy ghosts arise funereal
And seek unspeakable things ; and dryads call
The satyr-company to the satyr-king.
And all the light is over; but the sky
Shudders with blanched light of the unrisen moon.
The night-birds mingle their sad minstrelsy
For daylight’s requiem: and the sea’s reply
Now stirs across the land’s departed tune.
The moon is up: the choral crowd of stars
Shapen like strange or unknown animals,
Move in their measure: beyond /Lolian bars
The clustering winds, moving as nenuphars,
Gather and muse before the midnight calls.
The darkness is most deep in hollow dells.
There, blacker than Cocytus, lurk the shades
Darker than death’s, more terrible than hell’s,
Uttering unwritten words: the silent wells
Keep their sweet secret till the morning maids
Bring their carved pitchers to the moss-grown side.
For now beyond, below the east, appears
A hint as if a band, silvern and wide,
The girdle of some goddess amber-eyed,
Rose from the solemn company of the spheres
75