Page:Christabel, Kubla Khan, The Pains of Sleep - Coleridge (1816).djvu/56

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CHRISTABEL.

That thou this woman send away!"
She said; and more she could not say,
For what she knew she could not tell,
O'er-master'd by the mighty spell.

Why is thy cheek so wan and wild,
Sir Leoline! Thy only child
Lies at thy feet, thy joy, thy pride,
So fair, so innocent, so mild;
The same, for whom thy lady died!
O by the pangs of her dear mother
Think thou no evil of thy child!
For her, and thee, and for no other,
She pray'd the moment, ere she died;
Pray'd that the babe for whom she died,
Might prove her dear lord's joy and pride!
That prayer her deadly pangs beguil'd,
Sir Leoline!