And red and black his beard streams back,

Like some fierce torrent scoriac,

Whose earthquake light glares through the night

Around some dark volcanic height;

And through the skies Valkyrian cries

Trumpet, as battleward he flies,

Death in his hair and havoc in his eyes.

IV

Still in my dreams I hear that fountain flowing;

Beyond all seeing and beyond all knowing;

Still in my dreams I see those wild walls glowing

With hues, Aurora-kissed;

And through huge halls fantastic phantoms going.

Vast shapes of snow and mist,—

Sonorous clarions of the tempest blowing,—

That trail dark banners by,

[24]

Cloudlike, underneath the sky

Of the caverned dome on high,

Carbuncle and amethyst.—

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