Page:Lyrical Ballads (Coleridge).djvu/56

 Like one, that on a lonely road
 * Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turn'd round, walks on
 * And turns no more his head:

Because he knows, a frightful fiend
 * Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breath'd a wind on me,
 * Ne sound ne motion made:

Its path was not upon the sea
 * In ripple or in shade.

It rais'd my hair, it fann'd my cheek.
 * Like a meadow-gale of spring—

It mingled trangely with my fears,
 * Yet it felt like a welcoming.