Phantastes, A Faerie Romance

It saw down on the ground by the "antenatal

tomb," leaned upon it with my face towards the head of the figure

within, and sang--the words and tones coming together, and inseparably

connected, as if word and tone formed one thing; or, as if each word

could be uttered only in that tone, and was incapable of distinction

from it, except in idea, by an acute analysis. I sang something like

this: but the words are only a dull representation of a state whose

very elevation precluded the possibility of remembrance; and in which I

presume the words really employed were as far above these, as that state

transcended this wherein I recall it:

"Marble woman, vainly sleeping

In the very death of dreams!

Wilt thou--slumber from thee sweeping,

All but what with vision teems--

Hear my voice come through the golden

Mist of memory and hope;

And with shadowy smile embolden

Me with primal Death to cope?

"Thee the sculptors all pursuing,

Have embodied but their own;

Round their visions, form enduring,

Marble vestments thou hast thrown;

But thyself, in silence winding,

Thou hast kept eternally;

Thee they found not, many finding--

I have found thee: wake for me."

As I sang, I looked earnestly at the face so vaguely revealed before me.

I fancied, yet believed it to be but fancy, that through the dim veil

of the alabaster, I saw a motion of the head as if caused by a sinking

sigh. I gazed more earnestly, and concluded that it was but fancy.

Neverthless I could not help singing again-

"Rest is now filled full of beauty,

And can give thee up, I ween;

Come thou forth, for other duty

Motion pineth for her queen.

"Or, if needing years to wake thee

From thy slumbrous solitudes,

Come, sleep-walking, and betake thee

To the friendly, sleeping woods.

Sweeter dreams are in the forest,

Round thee storms would never rave;

And when need of rest is sorest,

Glide thou then into thy cave.

"Or, if still thou choosest rather

Marble, be its spell on me;

Let thy slumber round me gather,

Let another dream with thee!"

Again I paused, and gazed through the stony shroud, as if, by very force

of penetrative sight, I would clear every lineament of the lovely face.

And now I thought the hand that had lain under the cheek, had slipped

a little downward. But then I could not be sure that I had at first

observed its position accurately. So I sang again; for the longing had

grown into a passionate need of seeing her alive-