PANTHEA [ENTERS]: 
I feel, I see
Those eyes which burn through smiles that fade in tears,
Like stars half quenched in mists of silver dew. 
Beloved and most beautiful, who wearest 30
The shadow of that soul by which I live,
How late thou art! the sphered sun had climbed
The sea; my heart was sick with hope, before
The printless air felt thy belated plumes.

PANTHEA: 
Pardon, great Sister! but my wings were faint 35
With the delight of a remembered dream,
As are the noontide plumes of summer winds
Satiate with sweet flowers.  I was wont to sleep
Peacefully, and awake refreshed and calm
Before the sacred Titan’s fall, and thy 40
Unhappy love, had made, through use and pity,
Both love and woe familiar to my heart
As they had grown to thine:  erewhile I slept
Under the glaucous caverns of old Ocean
Within dim bowers of green and purple moss, 45
Our young Ione’s soft and milky arms
Locked then, as now, behind my dark, moist hair,
While my shut eyes and cheek were pressed within
The folded depth of her life-breathing bosom: 
But not as now, since I am made the wind 50
Which fails beneath the music that I bear
Of thy most wordless converse; since dissolved
Into the sense with which love talks, my rest
Was troubled and yet sweet; my waking hours
Too full of care and pain.

ASIA: 
Lift up thine eyes, 55
And let me read thy dream.

PANTHEA: 
As I have said
With our sea-sister at his feet I slept. 
The mountain mists, condensing at our voice
Under the moon, had spread their snowy flakes,
From the keen ice shielding our linked sleep. 60
Then two dreams came.  One, I remember not. 
But in the other his pale wound-worn limbs
Fell from Prometheus, and the azure night
Grew radiant with the glory of that form
Which lives unchanged within, and his voice fell 65
Like music which makes giddy the dim brain,
Faint with intoxication of keen joy: 
’Sister of her whose footsteps pave the world
With loveliness—­more fair than aught but her,
Whose shadow thou art—­lift thine eyes on me.’ 70
I lifted them:  the overpowering light
Of that immortal shape was shadowed o’er
By love; which, from his soft and flowing limbs,
And passion-parted lips, and keen, faint eyes,
Steamed forth like vaporous fire; an atmosphere 75
Which wrapped me in its all-dissolving power,
As the warm ether of the morning sun
Wraps ere it drinks some cloud of wandering dew. 
I saw not, heard not, moved not, only felt
His presence flow and mingle through my blood