Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/133

 Untenanting it's beauteous clay My soul has wing'd it's way, And hovers round my head!

I felt it prompt the tender Dream, When slowly sunk the day's last gleam; You rous'd each gentler sense As sighing o'er the Blossom's bloom Meek Evening wakes it's soft perfume With viewless influence.

And hark, my Love! The sea-breeze moans Thro' yon rest house! O'er rolling stones In bold ambitious sweep