Methought

Methought I saw poor Hector, as I slept, / all bathed in tears and black with dust and gore, / dragged by the chariot and his swoln feet sore / with piercing thongs.

So Pharao told what he had dreamed: Methought I stood upon the bank of the river, and seven kine came up out of the river, exceeding beautiful and full of flesh: and they grazed on green places in a marshy pasture.

When last I saw that little stream, / A form of light there stood, / That seemed like a precious gem, / Beneath that archway rude: / And as I gazed with love and awe / Upon that sylph-like thing, / Methought that airy form must be / The fairy of the spring.

The clouds methought would open, and ſhew riches / Ready to drop vpon me, that when I wak'd / I cri'de to dreame againe.

Methought I saw my late espoused saint / Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave,

Methought I was immersed in a cataleptic trance of more than usual duration and profundity.

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer / Swung by angels whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

And then methought my dream changed, and two Great Giants with heading-axes came striding over the bed, […]