Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/36

Or have they any sense of why they sing?
And would they praise the heavens for what they have?"
And I made answer, "Were there nothing else
For which to praise the heavens but only love,
That only love were cause enough for praise."
⁠Lightly he laugh'd, as one that read my thought.
And on we went; but ere an hour had pass'd,
We reach'd a meadow slanting to the North;
Down which a well-worn pathway courted us
To one green wicket in a privet hedge;
This, yielding, gave into a grassy walk
Thro' crowded lilac-ambush trimly pruned;
And one warm gust, full-fed with perfume, blew
Beyond us, as we enter'd in the cool.
The garden stretches southward. In the midst
A cedar spread his dark-green layers of shade.
The garden-glasses shone, and momently
The twinkling laurel scatter'd silver lights.
⁠"Eustace," I said, "this wonder keeps the house."
He nodded, but a moment afterwards
He cried. "Look! look!" Before he ceased I turn'd,
And, ere a star can wink, beheld her there.