Is wild and quick, yet 't is a thing of air,
  For through its gray robe gleams the golden dew
  Whose stars the noon has quenched not.

DREAM
  Follow! Follow!

PANTHEA
  It is mine other dream.

ASIA
  It disappears.

PANTHEA
  It passes now into my mind. Methought
  As we sate here, the flower-infolding buds
  Burst on yon lightning-blasted almond tree;
  When swift from the white Scythian wilderness
  A wind swept forth wrinkling the Earth with frost;
  I looked, and all the blossoms were blown down;
  But on each leaf was stamped, as the blue bells
  Of Hyacinth tell Apollo's written grief,
  OH, FOLLOW, FOLLOW!

ASIA
  As you speak, your words
  Fill, pause by pause, my own forgotten sleep
  With shapes. Methought among the lawns together
  We wandered, underneath the young gray dawn,
  And multitudes of dense white fleecy clouds
  Were wandering in thick flocks along the mountains,