In thin and fairy webs, that are at play
Like stormless waves upon a summer sea
Dragging their length of waters lazily.

Ay! to the rocks! and thou wilt see, I wist,
A lonely one, that bendeth in the mist
Of moonlight, with a wild and raven pall
Flung round him. Is he mortal man at all?
For, by the meagre fire-light that is under
Those eyelids, and the vizor shade of wonder
Falling upon his features, I would guess,
Of one that wanders out of blessedness!
Julio! raise thee!--By the holy mass!
I wot not of the fearless one would pass
Thy wizard shadow. Where the raven hair
Was shorn before, in many a matted layer
It lieth now; and on a rock beside
The sea, like merman at the ebb of tide,
Feasting his wondrous vision on Decay,
So art thou gazing over Agathè!

Ah me! but this is never the fair girl,
With brow of light, as lovely as a pearl,
That was as beautiful as is the form
Of sea-bird at the breaking of a storm.
The eye is open, with convulsive strain--
A most unfleshly orb! the stars that wane
Have nothing of its hue; for it is cast
With sickly blood, and terribly aghast!
And sunken in its socket, like the light