K EPLER of verse! who beauty's starry laws
Didst rescue and her orbits calculate!
Thou hadst no prince, no Tycho, in thy cause,
No fellow-centre for thy solar mate;
A dark polemic age hollow applause
Gave to the weird ellipsis of thy fate.
But thou art in the heavens like a pause,
Like Al Aaraf's swift and unearthly date,
A diadem'd outlaw like Tamerlane.
Thy heart strings were a lute like Israfel's,
The raven led thy fame to Ulalume;
Thou art the Psyche unto Sappho's pain.
So sibylline the leaflets from thy plume
They sigh like Orpheus melting Pluto's spells.