Albanio

I will find witness, or small power is left Me 'gainst the man that did commit the theft, And though my body's absent, as a foe Will drive him on to death; ah, dost thou know Aught of the thief, my gentle fountain fair? Speak, if thou dost! so may the swart star ne'er Sear thy fresh shades, or scorch thy silver spring, But still green fairies round thee dance and sing. There stands a man at bottom of the brook, With laurel crowned, and in his hand a crook Shaped like mine own, of oak: ho! who goes there? Answer, my friend! Heaven help me! I declare Thou' art deaf or dumb, some mortal foe I fear To life's humanities; holla! give ear; I am a disembodied soul; I seek My body, which, in a malicious freak, Some cruel thief has stol'n, it much has stirred me; Deaf or not deaf I care not—have you heard me? O gracious God! either my wayward brain Wanders, or I behold my shape again; Ha, my loved body! I no longer doubt thee, I clearly see thy image; whilst without thee I have been most unhappy—come, draw nigher, End both thy exile and my lorn desire.