Her madness was a beam of light, a power Which dawned through the rent soul; and words it gave, Gestures, and looks, such as in whirlwinds bore (Which might not be withstood, whence none could save) All who approached their sphere, like some calm wave Vexed into whirlpools by the chasms beneath; And sympathy made each attendant slave Fearless and free, and they began to breathe Deep curses, like the voice of flames far underneath. VIII The King felt pale upon his noonday throne: At night two slaves he to her chamber sent; One was a green and wrinkled eunuch, grown From human shape into an instrument Of all things ill-distorted, bowed, and bent; The other was a wretch from infancy Made dumb by poison, who nought knew or meant But to obey; from the fire-isles came he, A diver lean and strong, of Oman's coral sea. IX They bore her to a bark, and the swift stroke Of silent rowers clove the blue moonlight seas, Until upon their path the morning broke; They anchored then where, be there calm or breeze, The gloomiest of the drear Symplegades Shakes with the sleepless surge;-the Ethiop there Wound his long arms around her, and with knees Like iron clasped her feet, and Among the closing waves out of the plunged with her boundless air. |