Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/88

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Left sudden by a dallying breath of air, He rose in silence, and once more 'gan fare Along his fated way.
 * Far had he roam'd.

With nothing save the hollow vast, that foam'd Above, around, and at his feet; save things More dead than Morpheus' imaginings: Old rusted anchors, helmets, breastplates large Of gone sea-warriors; brazen beaks and targe; Rudders that for a hundred years had lost The sway of human hand; gold vase emboss'd With long-forgotten story, and wherein No reveller had ever dipp'd a chin But those of Saturn's vintage; mouldering scrolls, Writ in the tongue of heaven, by those souls Who first were on the earth; and sculptures rude In ponderous stone, developing the mood Of ancient Nox;—then skeletons of man, Of beast, behemoth, and leviathan, And elephant, and eagle, and huge jaw Of nameless monster. A cold leaden awe These secrets struck into him; and unless Dian had chased away that heaviness, He might have died: but now, with cheered feel, He onward kept; wooing these thoughts to steal About the labyrinth in his soul of love.


 * "What is there in thee, Moon! that thou shouldst
 * momove [sic]

My heart so potently? When yet a child I oft have dried my tears when thou hast smiled.