27.

And in the clear gulf of the hollow sea
  He saw light glimmering through the grave green gloom
That hardly gave the sun’s eye leave to see
  Cymodameia; but nor tower nor tomb,
No tower on earth, no tomb of waves may be,
  That may not sometime by diviner doom
Be plain and pervious to the poet; he
  Bids time stand back from him and fate make room
      For passage of his feet,
      Strong as their own are fleet,
  And yield the prey no years may reassume
      Through all their clamorous track,
      Nor night nor day win back
  Nor give to darkness what his eyes illume
    And his lips bless for ever:  he
Knows what earth knows not, sings truth sung not of the sea.

28.

Before the sentence of a curule chair
  More sacred than the Roman, rose and stood
To take their several doom the imperial pair
  Diversely born of Venus, and in mood
Diverse as their one mother, and as fair,
  Though like two stars contrasted, and as good,
Though different as dark eyes from golden hair;
  One as that iron planet red like blood
      That bears among the stars
      Fierce witness of her Mars
  In bitter fire by her sweet light subdued;
      One, in the gentler skies
      Sweet as her amorous eyes: 
  One proud of worlds and seas and darkness rude
    Composed and conquered; one content
With lightnings from loved eyes of lovers lightly sent.

29.

And where Alpheus and where Ladon ran
  Radiant, by many a rushy and rippling cove
More known to glance of god than wandering man,
  He sang the strife of strengths divine that strove,
Unequal, one with other, for a span,
  Who should be friends for ever in heaven above
And here on pastoral earth:  Arcadian Pan,
  And the awless lord of kings and shepherds, Love: 
      All the sweet strife and strange
      With fervid counterchange
  Till one fierce wail through many a glade and grove
      Rang, and its breath made shiver
      The reeds of many a river,
  And the warm airs waxed wintry that it clove,
    Keen-edged as ice-retempered brand;
Nor might god’s hurt find healing save of godlike hand.

30.

As when the jarring gates of thunder ope
  Like earthquake felt in heaven, so dire a cry,
So fearful and so fierce—­’Give the sword scope!’—­
  Rang from a daughter’s lips, darkening the sky
To the extreme azure of all its cloudless cope
  With starless horror:  nor the God’s own eye
Whose doom bade smite, whose ordinance bade hope,
  Might well endure to see the adulteress die,
      The husband-slayer fordone
      By swordstroke of her son,
  Unutterable, unimaginable on high,
      On earth abhorrent, fell
      Beyond all scourge of hell,
  Yet righteous as redemption:  Love stood nigh,
    Mute, sister-like, and closer clung
Than all fierce forms of threatening coil and maddening tongue.