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ATLANTIS.
And nightingales begin to wave the wing And pant and thrill in ecstasies of pride; Their welling raptures ripple and subside,Till all the passing zephyrs swoon with song: "Athena comes! more fair than crownèd bride!With blast nor sleet, ye mounts, her presence wrong:Breathe softly-loud her praise, afar the chant prolong!"
XII.Now swells the sea its coming lord to greet: From isle to isle full fast the tidings drift;The speedy billows roll around his feet; A crescent-shapen chariot high they lift; They urge the steed from out the watery rift,While foamy hands make haste to fling the rein; Ascends the god—the dripping wheels are swift,The glittering hoofs fast beat the charmèd main,Whose surges crouch before and all their waves restrain!
