Divided 'twixt the dream-world and the real, We heard the waxing pa**ion of the song Soar as to scale the heavens on pinions strong. Amidst the long-reverberant thunder-peal, Against the rain-blurred square of light, the head Of the pale poet at the lyric keys Stood boldly cut, absorbed in reveries, While over it keen-bladed lightnings played. "Rage on, wild storm!" the music seemed to sing: "Not all the thunders of thy wrath can move The soul that's dedicate to worshipping Eternal Beauty, everlasting Love." No more! the song was ended, and behold, A rainbow trembling on a sky of gold!