Page:Poems on Various Subjects - Coleridge (1796).djvu/96

 I felt the pressure of her Lip to mine! Whisp'ring we went, and Love was all our theme— Love pure and spotless, as at first, I deem, He sprang from Heaven! Such joys with Sleep did 'bide, That I the living Image of my Dream Fondly forgot. Too late I woke, and sigh'd— "O! how shall I behold my Love at even-tide!"