Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/315

 And shapeless feelings. For a mighty hand Was strong upon her, till in the heat of soul To the high hill-top tracing back her steps, Aside the beacon, up whose smoulder'd stones The tender ivy-trails crept thinly, there, Unconscious of the driving element, Yea, swallow'd up in the ominous dream, she sate, Ghastly as broad-eyed Slumber! a dim anguish Breath'd from her look! and still with pant and sob Inly she toil'd to flee, and still subdued Felt an inevitable Presence near.


 * Thus as she toil'd in troublous extacy,

An horror of great darkness wrapt her round, And a voice uttered forth unearthly tones, Calming her soul,—"O Thou of the Most High Chosen, whom all the perfected in Heaven Behold expectant

"Maid belov'd of Heaven! (To her the tutelary Power exclaimed) Of the adventurous progeny