Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/94

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I am a friend to love, to loves of yore: Ay, hadst thou never loved an unknown power, I had been grieving at this joyous hour. But even now, most miserable old, I saw thee, and my blood no longer cold Gave mighty pulses: in this tottering case Grew a new heart, which at this moment plays As dancingly as thine. Be not afraid, For thou shalt hear this secret all display'd, Now as we speed towards our joyous task."
 * So saying, this young soul in age's mask

Went forward with the Carian side by side: Resuming quickly thus; while ocean's tide Hung swollen at their backs, and jewell'd sands Took silently their foot-prints.
 * "My soul stands

Now past the midway from mortality, And so I can prepare without a sigh To tell thee briefly all my joy and pain. I was a fisher once, upon this main, And my boat danced in every creek and bay; Rough billows were my home by night and day,— The sea-gulls not more constant; for I had No housing from the storm and tempests mad, But hollow rocks,—and they were palaces Of silent happiness, of slumberous ease: Long years of misery have told me so. Ay, thus it was one thousand years ago. One thousand years!—Is it then possible To look so plainly through them? to dispel