Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/343

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 * Above the plains of Gobi,—desert, bleak;
 * Beheld afar off, in the hooded shade
 * Of darkness, a great mountain (strange to speak),
 * Spitting, from forth its sulphur-baken peak,
 * A fan-shaped burst of blood-red, arrowy fire,
 * Turban'd with smoke, which still away did reek,
 * Solid and black from that eternal pyre.,

Upon the laden winds that scantly could respire.


 * Created an alarm among our troop,
 * Kill'd a man-cook, a page, and broke a jar,
 * A tureen, and three dishes, at one swoop,
 * Then passing by the Princess, singed her hoop:
 * Could not conceive what Coralline was at,
 * She clapp'd her hands three times, and cried out: "Whoop!"
 * Some strange Imaian custom. A large bat

Came sudden 'fore my face, and brush'd against my hat.


 * Far in the west a mighty fire broke out,
 * Conjectured, on the instant, it might be
 * The city of Balk—'twas Balk beyond all doubt:
 * A griffin, wheeling here and there about,