BOOK THE FOURTH
139
Rush'd the warm purple to the Virgin's cheek. 285
"I am alone" she answer'd, "for this realm
Devoted." Nor to answer more the maid
Endur'd; for many a melancholy thought
Throng'd on her aching memory. Her mind's eye
Beheld Domremi and the fields of Arc: 290
She gaz'd amid the air with such sad look,
Yet such sweet solacing of self-applause,
As he the virtuous exile feels, who, driven[1]
By "that dark Vizier" from his native land,[2]
Roams on the sea beach, while the roaring waves 295
Rocking his senses, break upon the shore.
Lost in sad dreams his distant home he sees,
His friends, and haply too an aged Mother
That weeps for him in bitterness of heart.
All, all he loved fond fancy sees again, 300
Till the big tear-drop rushes o'er its orb,
And drowns the soft enchantment.
By the hand
"I am alone" she answer'd, "for this realm
Devoted." Nor to answer more the maid
Endur'd; for many a melancholy thought
Throng'd on her aching memory. Her mind's eye
Beheld Domremi and the fields of Arc: 290
She gaz'd amid the air with such sad look,
Yet such sweet solacing of self-applause,
As he the virtuous exile feels, who, driven[1]
By "that dark Vizier" from his native land,[2]
Roams on the sea beach, while the roaring waves 295
Rocking his senses, break upon the shore.
Lost in sad dreams his distant home he sees,
His friends, and haply too an aged Mother
That weeps for him in bitterness of heart.
All, all he loved fond fancy sees again, 300
Till the big tear-drop rushes o'er its orb,
And drowns the soft enchantment.
By the hand
Her
- ↑ Line 293 Thomas Muir.
- ↑ Line 294 Though roused by that dark Vizier, Riot rude, &c. Coleridge's Poems.
