Page:Christabel, Kubla Khan, The Pains of Sleep - Coleridge (1816).djvu/42

 O rather say, the same whom she Rais'd up beneath the old oak tree! Nay, fairer yet! and yet more fair! For she belike hath drunken deep Of all the blessedness of sleep! And while she spake, her looks, her air Such gentle thankfulness declare, That (so it seem'd) her girded vests Grew tight beneath her heaving breasts. "Sure I have sinn'd!" said Christabel, "Now heaven be prais'd if all be well!" And in low faltering tones, yet sweet, Did she the lofty lady greet With such perplexity of mind As dreams too lively leave behind.

So quickly she rose, and quickly array'd Her maiden limbs, and having pray'd