Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/260


 * (With swimming phantom-light o'erspread
 * But rimm'd and circled by a silver thread)

I see the old Moon in her lap, foretelling
 * The coming on of rain and squally blast.

And oh! that even now the gust were swelling,
 * And the slant night-shower driving loud and fast!

Those sounds which oft have raised me, whilst they awed,
 * And sent my soul abroad,

Might now perhaps their wonted impulse give, Might startle this dull pain, and make it move and live!

A grief without a pang, void, dark, and drear,
 * A stifled, drowsy, unimpassion'd grief,
 * Which finds no natural outlet, no relief,
 * In word, or sigh, or tear—

O Lady! in this wan and heartless mood, To other thoughts by yonder throstle woo'd,
 * All this long eve, so balmy and serene,

Have I been gazing on the western sky,
 * And it's peculiar tint of yellow green:

And still I gaze—and with how blank an eye! And those thin clouds above, in flakes and bars, That give away their motion to the stars;