Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/125

 She speaks! and hark that passion-warbled song— Still, Fancy! still those mazy notes prolong. Sweet as th' angelic harps, whose rapturous falls Awake the soften'd echoes of Heaven's Halls!

O (have I sigh'd) were mine the wizard's rod, Or mine the power of Proteus, changeful God! A flower-entangled I would seem To shield my Love from Noontide's sultry beam: Or bloom a, from whose od'rous boughs My Love might weave gay garlands for her brows. When Twilight stole across the fading vale. To fan my Love I'd be the ; Mourn in the soft folds of her swelling vest, And flutter my faint pinions on her breast! On Seraph wing I'd float a, by night, To soothe my Love with shadows of delight:—