Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/337

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 * There, put underneath your royal arm;
 * Though it's a pretty weight, it will not tire,
 * But rather on your journey keep you warm:
 * This is the magic, this the potent charm,
 * That shall drive Bertha to a fainting fit!
 * When the time comes, don't feel the least alarm,
 * But lift her from the ground, and swiftly flit

Back to your palace.

"Why merely
 * Lay it on Bertha's table, close beside
 * Her work-box, and 'twill help your purpose dearly;
 * I say no more." "Or good or ill betide,
 * Through the wide air to Kent this morn I glide!"
 * Exclaim'd the Emperor, "When I return,
 * Ask what you will,—I'll give you my new bride!
 * And take some more wine, Hum;—O, Heavens! I burn

To be upon the wing! Now, now, that minx I spurn!"


 * "But how shall I account, illustrious fay!
 * For thine imperial absence? Pho! I can
 * Say you are very sick, and bar the way