Chapter XXXIII: Reaction

Give me a chamber paved with emerald And hung with arras green as evening skies, Broidered with halcyons, moons, and heavily thralled White lilies, cold rare comfort for the eyes. Of triumph built was radiant yesterday: Like an imperial eagle to the sun My soul bare up her dreams the glorious way Through flagrant ordeals august, and won To burning eyries, till beneath her wing Rankled the shaft. Her Archer was abroad; And hooded with strange darkness, shuddering Down pain's dull spiral, sank she on the sod. Close round, green dusk of dews! No more we dare The blue inviolate castles of the air.