Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/135

 Who bade you do't?

The same! the same! Letters four do form his name. He let me loose, and cried, Halloo! To him alone the praise is due.

Thanks, sister, thanks! the men have bled, Their wives and their children faint for bread. I stood in a swampy field of battle; With bones and skulls I made a rattle, To frighten the wolf and carrion-crow And the homeless dog—but they would not go. So off I flew: for how could I bear To see them gorge their dainty fare? I heard a groan and a peevish squall, And through the chink of a cottage-wall— Can you guess what I saw there?

Whisper it, sister! in our ear. Rh