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!"