Nigh had I touched her palm; when, swift and clear,
Loud with the trumpet’s tongue, imperative,
Dulcent to hear,
A Voice of awful import thundered—
“Stay!”
Sudden I reared. As doth revulsion give
Thought interwound with thought, so did it seem
I hung halting. Furtively, distractedly,
I cast my gaze about, so to divine
Whence the high edict sprang. The Ogre blear