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ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
On a day, such pastime keeping,
With a fawn's heart debonair,
Under-crawling, over-leaping
Thorns that prick and boughs that bear,
I stood suddenly astonied—I was gladdened unaware!
With a fawn's heart debonair,
Under-crawling, over-leaping
Thorns that prick and boughs that bear,
I stood suddenly astonied—I was gladdened unaware!
From the place I stood in, floated
Back the covert dim and close;
And the open ground was suited
Carpet-smooth with grass and moss,
And the bluebell’s purple presence signed it worthily across.
Back the covert dim and close;
And the open ground was suited
Carpet-smooth with grass and moss,
And the bluebell’s purple presence signed it worthily across.
Here a linden tree stood, brightening
All adown its silver rind;
For, as some trees draw the lightning,
So this tree, unto my mind,
Drew to earth the blessed sunshine, from the sky where it was shrined. . . .
All adown its silver rind;
For, as some trees draw the lightning,
So this tree, unto my mind,
Drew to earth the blessed sunshine, from the sky where it was shrined. . . .
Tall the linden-tree, and near it
An old hawthorn also grew;
And wood-ivy like a spirit
Hovered dimly round the two,
Shaping thence that Bower of beauty, which I sing of thus to you. . . .
An old hawthorn also grew;
And wood-ivy like a spirit
Hovered dimly round the two,
Shaping thence that Bower of beauty, which I sing of thus to you. . . .
As I entered—mosses hushing
Stole all noises from my foot:
And a round elastic cushion,
Clasped within the linden's root,
Took me in a chair of silence, very rare and absolute. . . .
Stole all noises from my foot:
And a round elastic cushion,
Clasped within the linden's root,
Took me in a chair of silence, very rare and absolute. . . .
So, young muser, I sate listening
To my Fancy's wildest word—
On a sudden, through the glistening
Leaves around, a little stirred,
Came a sound, a sense of music, which was rather felt than heard.
To my Fancy's wildest word—
On a sudden, through the glistening
Leaves around, a little stirred,
Came a sound, a sense of music, which was rather felt than heard.
Softly, finely, it inwound me—
From the world it shut me in,—
Like a fountain falling round me,
Which with silver waters thin
Clips a little marble Naiad, sitting smilingly within. . . .
From the world it shut me in,—
Like a fountain falling round me,
Which with silver waters thin
Clips a little marble Naiad, sitting smilingly within. . . .
