Nothing he spake—but tossed from left to right,
Like one who vainly did some ease invite;
Till when it verged toward morning, he that kept
That anxious vigil deemed the sufferer slept:
XXVIII.
Or sometimes feared he was already dead,
So noiseless now that chamber’s silence deep;
Yet ventured not to speak or stir, for dread
Lest he should chase away that sweetest sleep