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THE DÆMONIC AND
And in right deserving,
And without a swerving
Each from your proper state,
Weave roses for your mate.
'Deep, deep are loving eyes,
Flowed with naphtha fiery sweet;
And the point is paradise,
Where their glances meet:
Their reach shall yet be more profound,
And a vision without bound;
The axis of those eyes sun-clear
Be the axis of the sphere:
So shall the lights ye pour amain
Go, without check or intervals,
Through from the empyrean walls
Unto the same again.'
Close, close to men,
Like undulating layer of air,
Right above their heads,
The potent plain of Dæmons spreads.
