Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/694

 SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE

Like one that on a lonesome road

Doth walk in fear and dread,

And having once turn'd round, walks on,

And turns no moie his head,

Because he knowb a frightful fiend

Doth close behind him tread.

But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made* Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fann'd my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming.

Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sail'd softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze On me alone it blew.

And the ancient O dream of joy' is this indeed

hoidethhis The lighthouse top I sec'

native country. j g ^ thfi hlll? j g ^ tRc j^p

Is this mine own countrec?

We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray Or let me sleep alway.

The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn' And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon.

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