And fathomless, yielding no answer to

The searching eye. And, measureless, the sky

Above was dark'ning into endless night.

{38}

Then, from the deep did vapours seem to rise

In white procession, denser, and yet denser,

Until into a rising column they

Began to form—a column like a mountain,

That rose and rose and rose up to the vaults

Of darkness which it seemed to carry, all

One mass of light. And when I looked again,

That column built itself of millions and

Millions of milk-white stars that moved and shone

And seemed to lift the skies unto a height

That human sight and human word could not

Attain. And whilst I looked and wondered at

The seething worlds, the column changed and formed

Itself into the statue Buonarroti

Has made of Moses, only reaching from

The deep into the heavens, white and bright,

 Prev. P 27/54 next