The Eve of St. Agnes - XXVIII

Stol'n to this paradise, and so entranced,

Porphyro gazed upon her empty dress,

And listen'd to her breathing, if it chanced

To wake into a slumberous tenderness;

Which when he heard, that minute did he bless,

And breathed himself: then from the closet crept,

Noiseless as fear in a wide wilderness,

And over the hush'd carpet, silent, stept,

And 'tween the curtains peep'd, where, lo! - how fast she slept.