238
The heir of Rookwood.
In my curled hair!" The echoes shook her laugh
To silvery fragments, as the rocks below
Brake the melodious waters. Ere she paused,
A white hound and a youth that chid him back
Came up the hollow. When his lifted face
Questioned my own, I knew my cousin Arthur.
To silvery fragments, as the rocks below
Brake the melodious waters. Ere she paused,
A white hound and a youth that chid him back
Came up the hollow. When his lifted face
Questioned my own, I knew my cousin Arthur.
The boy my father loved was now a man
Cast in his mould, but round whose manhood hung
A studied courtliness, unlike Sir Hugh's
Rough royalty. Disdain on Arthur's lip,
Tamed by disgust, sat like a wearied falcon.
There burned no fire within his listless eye,
No eager impulse leaping from his heart
Waved the red colours on his cheek, his voice
Was sweet and even as a stream that has
Never a rock to break against.
To lie
Out on the green sward, pillowing his head
Upon the sleek neck of some favourite hound,
Follow the watercourses, rod and line
Swung idly o'er his shoulder, walk his horse
Cast in his mould, but round whose manhood hung
A studied courtliness, unlike Sir Hugh's
Rough royalty. Disdain on Arthur's lip,
Tamed by disgust, sat like a wearied falcon.
There burned no fire within his listless eye,
No eager impulse leaping from his heart
Waved the red colours on his cheek, his voice
Was sweet and even as a stream that has
Never a rock to break against.
To lie
Out on the green sward, pillowing his head
Upon the sleek neck of some favourite hound,
Follow the watercourses, rod and line
Swung idly o'er his shoulder, walk his horse
