19. 
And how all things that seem untameable,
Not to be checked and not to be confined,
Obey the spells of Wisdom’s wizard skill; 195
Time, earth, and fire—­the ocean and the wind,
And all their shapes—­and man’s imperial will;
And other scrolls whose writings did unbind
The inmost lore of Love—­let the profane
Tremble to ask what secrets they contain. 200

20. 
And wondrous works of substances unknown,
To which the enchantment of her father’s power
Had changed those ragged blocks of savage stone,
Were heaped in the recesses of her bower;
Carved lamps and chalices, and vials which shone 205
In their own golden beams—­each like a flower,
Out of whose depth a fire-fly shakes his light
Under a cypress in a starless night.

21. 
At first she lived alone in this wild home,
And her own thoughts were each a minister, 210
Clothing themselves, or with the ocean foam,
Or with the wind, or with the speed of fire,
To work whatever purposes might come
Into her mind; such power her mighty Sire
Had girt them with, whether to fly or run, 215
Through all the regions which he shines upon.

22. 
The Ocean-nymphs and Hamadryades,
Oreads and Naiads, with long weedy locks,
Offered to do her bidding through the seas,
Under the earth, and in the hollow rocks, 220
And far beneath the matted roots of trees,
And in the gnarled heart of stubborn oaks,
So they might live for ever in the light
Of her sweet presence—­each a satellite.

23. 
‘This may not be,’ the wizard maid replied; 225
’The fountains where the Naiades bedew
Their shining hair, at length are drained and dried;
The solid oaks forget their strength, and strew
Their latest leaf upon the mountains wide;
The boundless ocean like a drop of dew 230
Will be consumed—­the stubborn centre must
Be scattered, like a cloud of summer dust.

24. 
’And ye with them will perish, one by one;—­
If I must sigh to think that this shall be,
If I must weep when the surviving Sun 235
Shall smile on your decay—­oh, ask not me
To love you till your little race is run;
I cannot die as ye must—­over me
Your leaves shall glance—­the streams in which ye dwell
Shall be my paths henceforth, and so—­farewell!’—­ 240

25. 
She spoke and wept:—­the dark and azure well
Sparkled beneath the shower of her bright tears,
And every little circlet where they fell
Flung to the cavern-roof inconstant spheres
And intertangled lines of light:—­a knell 245
Of sobbing voices came upon her ears
From those departing Forms, o’er the serene
Of the white streams and of the forest green.