noon
` Until last night -LRB- when a necromantic prodigy did indeed appal me -RRB- , methinks I was not credulous in any other magic save that of love ! ' said Glaucus , in a tremulous voice , and fixing his eyes on Ione . ` Ah ! ' said Nydia , with a sort of shiver , and she awoke mechanically a few pleasing notes from her lyre ; the sound suited well the tranquility of the waters , and the sunny stillness of the noon . ` Play to us , dear Nydia , said Glaucus -- ` play and give us one of thine old Thessalian songs : whether it be of magic or not , as thou wilt -- let it , at least , be of love ! ' ` Of love ! ' repeated Nydia , raising her large , wandering eyes , that ever thrilled those who saw them with a mingled fear and pity ; you could never familiarize yourself to their aspect : so strange did it seem that those dark wild orbs were ignorant of the day , and either so fixed was their deep mysterious gaze , or so restless and perturbed their glance , that you felt , when you encountered them , that same vague , and chilling , and half-preternatural impression , which comes over you in the presence of the insane -- of those who , having a life outwardly like your own , have a life within life -- dissimilar -- unsearchable -- unguessed !