Like a lone Arab, old and blind, <br /> Some caravan had left behind, <br /> Who sits beside a ruin'd well, <br /> Where the shy sand-asps bask and swell; <br /> And now he hangs his ag{'e}d head aslant, <br /> And listens for a human sound--in vain! <br /> And now the aid, which Heaven alone can grant, <br /> Upturns his eyeless face from Heaven to gain;-- <br /> Even thus, in vacant mood, one sultry hour, <br /> Resting my eye upon a drooping plant, <br /> With brow low-bent, within my garden-bower, <br /> I sate upon the couch of camomile; <br /> And--whether 'twas a transient sleep, perchance, <br /> Flitted across the idle brain, the while <br /> I watch'd the sickly calm with aimless scope, <br /> In my own heart; or that, indeed a trance, <br /> Turn'd my eye inward--thee, O genial Hope, <br /> Love's elder sister! thee did I behold <br /> Drest as a bridesmaid, but all pale and cold, <br /> With roseless cheek, all pale and cold and dim, <br /> Lie lifeless at my feet! <br /> And then came Love, a sylph in bridal trim, <br /> And stood beside my seat; <br /> She bent, and kiss'd her sister's lips, <br /> As she was wont to do;-- <br /> Alas! 'twas but a chilling breath <br /> Woke just enough of life in death <br /> To make Hope die anew.<br /><br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-s-apparition-and-evanishment-an-allegoric-r/
