Xi

Then he ceased:--and his eyes--how they glistened! His eyes, that were haunted with pain, With longing and beauty and pain: And again he cried out, "Oh, that music! That proud and that perilous music! O God! for that tyrannous strain, To which in my dreams I have listened, Ah, God! I have listened in vain!" And he tossed on the mantle of satin His deep raven darkness of hair; And the song at her lips was ungathered, And she sat there to marvel and stare; Like marble, to wonder and stare.