Among these visions there was one,[3]
Surpassing fair, on which the sun,
That instant risen, a beam let fall,
Which thro' the dusky twilight trembled.
And reached at length the spot where all
Those great magicians stood assembled.
And as they turned their heads to view
The shining lustre, I could trace
The bright varieties it threw
On each uplifted studying face:[4]
While many a voice with loud acclaim
Called forth, "Masaccio" as the name
Of him, the Enchanter, who had raised
This miracle on which all gazed.
'Twas daylight now--the sun had risen
From out the dungeon of old Night.--
Like the Apostle from his prison
Led by the Angel's hand of light;
And--as the fetters, when that ray
Of glory reached them, dropt away.[5]
So fled the clouds at touch of day!
Just then a bearded sage came forth,[6]
Who oft in thoughtful dream would stand,
To trace upon the dusky earth
Strange learned figures with his wand;
And oft he took the silver lute
His little page behind him bore,
And waked such music as, when mute,
Left in the soul a thirst for more!
Meanwhile his potent spells went on,
And forms and faces that from out
A depth of shadow mildly shone
Were in the soft air seen about.
Tho' thick as midnight stars they beamed,
Yet all like living sisters seemed,
So close in every point resembling
Each other's beauties--from the eyes
Lucid as if thro' crystal trembling,
Yet soft as if suffused with sighs,
To the long, fawn-like mouth, and chin,
Lovelily tapering, less and less,
Till by this very charm's excess,
Like virtue on the verge of sin,
It touched the bounds of ugliness.
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