Page:Orion, an epic poem - Horne (1843, 3rd edition).djvu/81

By the chief rulers, while Orion stood
Chained to the throne. But Merope, "'t was said,
Should still be his, if loyal, hand and soul.
Yet ere Orion answered, rushing came
A small dark shape-—some airy messenger—
Darting on all sides, diving, nestling, leaping,
Swift as a mullet coursing the sea hare,
And strong, as when within the shore-hauled net
It searches, like a keen hound, to and fro,
And no gap finding, bounds o'er the high-drawn line:
One leaps—all follow, like a flock of sheep
Over a wattle. So, this headlong sprite,
Which, in our dream, now multiplied to shoals,
And thus confused the feasters. But what 't was
None saw, nor knew; but all the feast they marred,
While, in the place of meats and fruits, we found
Dust—dry-baked dust; the dust of the gone king,
Encolyon—as a bird in the air screamed forth—
By Phoibos smitten. Now a sound we heard,
Like to some well-known voice in prayer; and next
An iron clang that seemed to break great bonds
Beneath the earth, shook us to conscious life.
A briny current passing through our hearts
Stung all our faculties back to former power;