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We think of the blinded Cyclops groping round his cave, like "the blind wave feeling round his long sea-hall." The richness, the many shining contrasts and immortal lines in Vivien, seem almost too noble for a subject not easily redeemed, and the picture of the ideal Court lying in full corruption. It is most elegant and fanciful.
A twist of gold was round her hair; a robe Of samite without price, that more exprest Than hid her, clung about her lissome limbs, In colour like the satin-shining palm On sallows in the windy gleams of March: And while she kiss'd them, crying, 'Trample me, Dear feet, that I have follow'd thro' the world, And I will pay you worship; tread me down And I will kiss you for it'; he was mute: So dark a forethought roll'd about his brain, As on a dull day in an Ocean cave The blind wave feeling round his long sea-hall In silence."
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