THE FEAST OF THE VIOLETS.
119
Then there issued (get Vincent Novello, some day,
To show you the strain, for he took it away)
A world-heavy gust, like all organs in one,
Or as though had swept earthward the roar of the sun,
Or the face of some god with his thunder-loud tresses,
Who comes like a terror, stays gently, and blesses,
And leaves us secure in the strength of humility.
—Phœbus however, with host-like civility,
Tried them no farther with godhead so grave:
To his sprites, on the sudden, blithe orders he gave,
And quoting the line about "lips being fed,"
(Which applied not alone to one heaven, he said,
For ambrosia and nectar sustain'd the realms upper)
There rose, veil'd in mist, to soft music, a supper.
To show you the strain, for he took it away)
A world-heavy gust, like all organs in one,
Or as though had swept earthward the roar of the sun,
Or the face of some god with his thunder-loud tresses,
Who comes like a terror, stays gently, and blesses,
And leaves us secure in the strength of humility.
—Phœbus however, with host-like civility,
Tried them no farther with godhead so grave:
To his sprites, on the sudden, blithe orders he gave,
And quoting the line about "lips being fed,"
(Which applied not alone to one heaven, he said,
For ambrosia and nectar sustain'd the realms upper)
There rose, veil'd in mist, to soft music, a supper.
Very beauteous the mist was,—thin, white, with a bloom;
An odour of violets fill'd the whole room;
Ever trembled the music; and as the mist clear'd,
First, bunches of violets gently appear'd,—
Then silver,—then gold,—then the tops of decanters
Of diamond,—then peaches, those cheek-like enchanters,
And other fruit, some in white baskets, and some
Enleaf'd on the bough, with a dew on the plum;
Then dishes, half seen, fit to make a physician
Turn glutton, from dairies and pastures Elysian;
The peaches hung over them, ready to drip;
And now the guests sat, and the mirth was let slip,
And white went the fingers from foliage to lip.
Then the music came sweet over all, like the sound
Of their fame; and behind ev'ry lady stood, crown'd
With the flame on his forehead, her Genius, who went
To and fro with his pinions, on messages bent
'Twixt her friends and herself, some sweet fruit or sweet word;
And ave at the table sweet laughter was heard.
An odour of violets fill'd the whole room;
Ever trembled the music; and as the mist clear'd,
First, bunches of violets gently appear'd,—
Then silver,—then gold,—then the tops of decanters
Of diamond,—then peaches, those cheek-like enchanters,
And other fruit, some in white baskets, and some
Enleaf'd on the bough, with a dew on the plum;
Then dishes, half seen, fit to make a physician
Turn glutton, from dairies and pastures Elysian;
The peaches hung over them, ready to drip;
And now the guests sat, and the mirth was let slip,
And white went the fingers from foliage to lip.
Then the music came sweet over all, like the sound
Of their fame; and behind ev'ry lady stood, crown'd
With the flame on his forehead, her Genius, who went
To and fro with his pinions, on messages bent
'Twixt her friends and herself, some sweet fruit or sweet word;
And ave at the table sweet laughter was heard.
