Albanio

Oh that here I had The man whose malice seems to drive me mad! I feel discharged of a vast weight! it seems I fly, disdaining mountains, woods, and streams, My farm, flock, field, and dairy! Are not these Feet? yes, with them I fly where'er I please. And now I come to think, my body's gone; It is the spirit I command alone. Some one has stolen and hid it as I gazed On the clear sky, somewhat too much amazed; Or has it stayed behind asleep? I swear A figure coloured like the rose was there, Slumbering most sweetly; now, if that should be My shape—no, that was far too fair for me.