Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/94

XXXIV.

And she had died in drowsy ignorance,

⁠But for a thing more deadly dark than all;
It came like a fierce potion, drunk by chance,
⁠Which saves a sick man from the feather'd pall
For some few gasping moments; like a lance,
⁠Waking an Indian from his cloudy hall270
With cruel pierce, and bringing him again
Sense of the gnawing fire at heart and brain.

XXXV.

It was a vision.—In the drowsy gloom,

⁠The dull of midnight, at her couch's foot
Lorenzo stood, and wept: the forest tomb
⁠Had marr'd his glossy hair which once could shoot
Lustre into the sun, and put cold doom
⁠Upon his lips, and taken the soft lute
From his lorn voice, and past his loamed ears
Had made a miry channel for his tears.280