Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/224

 In silence listening, like a devout child, My soul lay passive, by thy various strain Driven, as in surges now beneath the stars, With momentary Stars of my own birth, Fair constellated Foam, still darting off Into the darkness; now a tranquil sea, Outspread and bright, yet swelling to the Moon.

And when—O Friend! my comforter and guide! Strong in thy self, and powerful to give strength!— Thy long sustained Song finally closed, And thy deep voice had ceased—yet thou thyself Wert still before my eyes, and round us both That happy vision of beloved Faces— Scarce conscious, and yet conscious of its close