Scene II
(The beautiful Lake of Swans in the distance.
Ianthe is discovered bathing in the Lake, while
the most delightful music is heard rising up
out of the bosom of the Lake around her form.
Enter Count Julian. Count Julian in raptures)
Behold! Ianthe, like the Crescent Moon
Cloudless in Heaven, in her own beauty clad,
As glorious to the Isles, as she to Night—
Swimming about through all the placid Lake,
Drawn by two silver Swans together yoked,
Like some fair Naid in her native stream!
While through the emerald alleys crowned with flowers
A liquid music comes from all the streams,
Like the pathetic light formed from the Moon
Upon some cloudless night when all is clear
Rising up, odor-like, around the form,
Soothing her sighing soul to heavenly peace!
It is the music of Celestial Love,
Speaking, in mystic language, to her soul—
Sweet as the Choral Symphonies of Stars,
As heavenly harmony of the Pleiades!
(Exit Ianthe in haste)
Now she has gone into her Bower of Bliss,
Where, all alone, seen only by the Flowers,
That kiss with their delicious, odorous lips
Her more delicious, heavenly, odorous form!
This Flower of Paradise reclothes herself—
Or, rather, she is by the Graces clad!
(The same music, attending her, is heard in
the distance.)
Impatient now to gaze once more on Heaven,
On whose bright threshold I now seem to stand,
And hear the songs of Seraphim within—
(Like him who, little ere his death, did hear
A strain of music in the air—)
I go
To follow her to her sweet Hiding place!
(Exit.)
