Song of Enitharmon

I seize the sphery harp. I strike the strings.

At the first sound the Golden sun arises from the deep

And shakes his awful hair,

The Eccho wakes the moon to unbind her silver locks,

The golden sun bears on my song

And nine bright spheres of harmony rise round the fiery king.

They sing unceasing to the notes of my immortal hand.

The solemn silent moon

Reverberates the living harmony upon my limbs,

The birds & beasts rejoice & play,

And every one seeks for his mate to prove his inmost joy.

Now my left hand I stretch to earth beneath,

And strike the terrible string.

I wake sweet joy in dens of sorrow & I plant a smile

In forests of affliction,

And wake the bubbling springs of life in regions of dark death.