Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/183

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BOOK I.
HYPERION.
155
For as among us mortals omens drearFright and perplex, so also shuddered he— 170Not at dog's howl, or gloom-bird's hated screech,Or the familiar visiting of oneUpon the first toll of his passing-bell,Or prophesyings of the midnight lamp;But horrors, portion'd to a giant nerve,Oft made Hyperion ache. His palace brightBastion'd with pyramids of glowing gold.And touch'd with shade of bronzed obelisks,Glar'd a blood-red through all its thousand courts,Arches, and domes, and fiery galleries; 180And all its curtains of Aurorian cloudsFlush'd angerly: while sometimes eagle's wings,Unseen before by Gods or wondering men,Darken'd the place; and neighing steeds were heard,Not heard before by Gods or wondering men.Also, when he would taste the spicy wreaths
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