Quotation by Percy Bysshe Shelley

she drew back a while,
Then, yielding to the irresistible joy,
With frantic gesture and short breathless cry
Folded his frame in her dissolving arms.
Now blackness veiled his dizzy eyes, and night
Involved and swallowed up the vision; sleep,
Like a dark flood suspended in its course,
Rolled back its impulse on his vacant brain.
Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792–1822), British poet. Alastor; or, The Spirit of Solitude (l. 185–192). . .

The Complete Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley. Mary Shelley, ed. (1994) The Modern Library/Random House.
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