XXII

'Wake thou,' cried Misery, 'childless Mother, rise

      Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart's core,

      A wound more fierce than his with tears and sighs.'

      And all the Dreams that watched Urania's eyes,

      And all the Echoes whom their sister's song

      Had held in holy silence, cried: 'Arise!'

      Swift as a Thought by the snake Memory stung,

From her ambrosial rest the fading Splendour sprung.