Madison Cawein - To Revery lyrics

What ogive gates from gold of Ophir wrought, What walls of bastioned Parian, lucid rose, What marts of crystal, for the eyes of Thought Hast builded on what Islands of Repose! Vague onyx columns ranked Corinthian, Or piled Ionic, colonnading heights That loom above long burst of mythic seas: Vast gynaeceums of carnelian; Micaceous temples, far marmorean flights, Where winds the arabesque and plastique frieze. Where bulbous domes of coruscating ore Cloud--like convulsive sunsets--lands that dream, Myrrh-fragrant, over siren seas and hoar, Dashed with stiff, breezy foam of ocean's stream. Tempestuous architecture-revelries; Built melodies of marble or clear gla**; Effulgent sculptures chiseled out of thought In misty attitudes, whose majesties Feed full the pleasure as those beauties pa** To pale extinctions which are beauty fraught. On rebeck and on rose in plinths of spars, On glimmering solitudes of flower and stone, A twilight-glow swoons settled, burned with stars, Deep violet dusk developing nor done. Where float fair nacreous shapes like deities,-- Existences of glory musical,-- 'Round whose warm hair twist fillets' coiling gold, Their limbs Olympian lovely, and their eyes Dark oblique fervors; and most languorous tall In woven white with girdling gold threefold. There darkling the consummate vintage sleeps,-- Lethe-nepenthes for Earth-agony,-- In sealed amphorae some Sybil keeps, World-old, forever cellared secretly. A wine of Xeres or of Syracuse? A fierce Falernian?--Ah! no vile Sabine!-- A stol'n ambrosia of what olden god? Whose bubbled rubies maiden feet did bruise From crusted vats of vintage rich, I ween, Vivacious purple of some Samian sod. Oh, for the cold conclusion of one draught! Elysian ecstacy of cla**ic earth!-- Where heroes warred with gods and where gods laughed In eyes of mortal brown, a lusty mirth Of deity delirious with desire: Where danced the sacrifice to horned shrines, And splashed the full libation blue as blood.-- Oh, to be drunk with dreaming! to inspire The very soul of beauty whence it shines Too lost for utterance yet understood! In cogitation of what verdurous shades, Dull-droning quietudes where wild-bees lolled s**, lulled in pulpy lilies of the glades, Barbaric-smothered with the kerneled gold: Teased by some torso of the golden age, Nude breasts of Cytherea, famous fair, Uncestus'd, yet suggestive of what loves Immortal! yearn enamoured; or to rage With sun-burnt Poesy whose throat breathes bare O'er leopard skins and flute among her groves.