The heir of Rookwood.
233
And chide her into stateliness. A flower
That grows beside a cataract imbibes
Not less the nature of its restless neighbour.
That grows beside a cataract imbibes
Not less the nature of its restless neighbour.
Fronting the sunset, Rookwood's library
Looks down the lawn; and up that gradual slope,
The west wind, loitering, hums a song it learned
Down by the tuneful river. River-scents
Blow through the oriels; shade and quiet fill
The book-lined room. 'Twixt rows of oaken shelves
Are hung two dusky pictures—St. Jerome,
Framed in the dark mouth of his desert cave;
A brindled lion couchant at his feet;
Pondering the gospels—and, a space beyond,
White companies of angels flock to thee,
Lily of heaven, Cecilia! One recess
O'ervaults an organ's gilded pipes, and here
Many an evening, Ernestine and Lilia
Sang to my stormy playing. Lilia's voice
Was like the gay dance of a bayadere,
Aerially light, but Ernestine's
Stately as gondolas that glide between
Looks down the lawn; and up that gradual slope,
The west wind, loitering, hums a song it learned
Down by the tuneful river. River-scents
Blow through the oriels; shade and quiet fill
The book-lined room. 'Twixt rows of oaken shelves
Are hung two dusky pictures—St. Jerome,
Framed in the dark mouth of his desert cave;
A brindled lion couchant at his feet;
Pondering the gospels—and, a space beyond,
White companies of angels flock to thee,
Lily of heaven, Cecilia! One recess
O'ervaults an organ's gilded pipes, and here
Many an evening, Ernestine and Lilia
Sang to my stormy playing. Lilia's voice
Was like the gay dance of a bayadere,
Aerially light, but Ernestine's
Stately as gondolas that glide between
