PANTHEA
  Pardon, great Sister! but my wings were faint
  With the delight of a remembered dream,
  As are the noontide plumes of summer winds
  Satiate with sweet flowers. I was wont to sleep
  Peacefully, and awake refreshed and calm,
  Before the sacred Titan's fall and thy
  Unhappy love had made, through use and pity,
  Both love and woe familiar to my heart
  As they had grown to thine: erewhile I slept
  Under the glaucous caverns of old Ocean
  Within dim bowers of green and purple moss,
  Our young Ione's soft and milky arms
  Locked then, as now, behind my dark, moist hair,
  While my shut eyes and cheek were pressed within
  The folded depth of her life-breathing bosom:
  But not as now, since I am made the wind
  Which fails beneath the music that I bear
  Of thy most wordless converse; since dissolved
  Into the sense with which love talks, my rest
  Was troubled and yet sweet; my waking hours
  Too full of care and pain.

ASIA
  Lift up thine eyes,
  And let me read thy dream.

PANTHEA
  As I have said,
  With our sea-sister at his feet I slept.