—Then, softly, a pale swarm, and in disguise
Flit past the drowsy watchman, small as flies.”
10
“I’ll see this aerish beast whereof you speak.
I’ll share the watch with you.”—“Nay, little One,
Begone. You are of earth. The flesh is weak....”
—“What is the flesh to me? My course is run,
All but some deed still waiting to be done,
Some moment I may rise on, as the boat
Lifts with the lifting tide and steals afloat.