Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/95

 When as I 'gan to lift my drowsy head— "Now, Bard! I'll work thee woe!" the laughing Elfin said.

, softly-breathing God! his downy wing Was flutt'ring now, as quickly to depart; When twang'd an arrow from mystic string, With pathless wound it pierc'd him to the heart. Was there some Magic in the Elfin's dart? Or did he strike my couch with wizard lance? For strait so fair a Form did upwards start (No fairer deck'd the Bowers of old Romance) That enamour'd grew, nor mov'd from his sweet Trance!

My came, with gentlest Look divine; Bright shone her Eye, yet tender was its beam: