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The heir of Rookwood.
Her feet upon the level lawns, and taught
Her lips their blossom language. Then, betimes,
Lest the coarse peasant earth should clog its roots,
For gentler nurture my fair foreign plant
To Rookwood I conveyed.
To those dim halls,
Where the blithe common sunshine of the fields
Put on grave splendour; to those druid shades,
Came the fresh nature of the untrained child
Like an opposing element. Her voice
Broke the long silence of the morning hours.
Either she went forth through the lawns with me,
Or at my mother's footstool strewed her playthings,
Prattling aloud, and at the rare rebuke,
Reading her face with unabashed grave eyes,
Till Maud glanced sidelong with a stately smile,
And fair calm Marian, with a woman's impulse,
Bent down and took the lone child to her heart.
Even Ernestine, who o'er her broidery needle
Secretly dreamed of tournaments and masques,
And cavaliers be-plumed, whose very dolls
Had been court ladies in brocade and velvet,
Her lips their blossom language. Then, betimes,
Lest the coarse peasant earth should clog its roots,
For gentler nurture my fair foreign plant
To Rookwood I conveyed.
To those dim halls,
Where the blithe common sunshine of the fields
Put on grave splendour; to those druid shades,
Came the fresh nature of the untrained child
Like an opposing element. Her voice
Broke the long silence of the morning hours.
Either she went forth through the lawns with me,
Or at my mother's footstool strewed her playthings,
Prattling aloud, and at the rare rebuke,
Reading her face with unabashed grave eyes,
Till Maud glanced sidelong with a stately smile,
And fair calm Marian, with a woman's impulse,
Bent down and took the lone child to her heart.
Even Ernestine, who o'er her broidery needle
Secretly dreamed of tournaments and masques,
And cavaliers be-plumed, whose very dolls
Had been court ladies in brocade and velvet,
