Page:Lyrical Ballads (Coleridge).djvu/35

 The western wave was all a flame,
 * The day was well nigh done!

Almost upon the western wave
 * Rested the broad bright Sun;

When that strange shape drove suddenly
 * Betwixt us and the Sun.

And strait the Sun was fleck'd with bars
 * (Heaven's mother send us grace)

As if thro' a dungeon grate he peer'd
 * With broad and burning face.

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
 * How fast she neres and neres!

Are those her Sails that glance in the Sun
 * Like restless gossameres?