Then sunk, and sunk away, like Fear
Holding her breath. Again, it swell’d!
I thought some fairy’s death-peal knell’d.
XXIII.
It was a wind-harp’s magic strong,
Mov’d by the breeze in dreamy song;
But I was gone too far to know
What stirr’d my troubled spirit so,
And in my fancy, came a flood
Of visions, strange to flesh and blood,