THE PICTURE GALLERY AT PENSHURST.
They spoke unto me from the silent ground,
They look’d unto me from the pictured wall:
The echo of my footstep was a sound
Like to the echo of their own footfall,
What time their living feet were in the hall.
I breathed where they had breathed—and where they brought
Their souls to moralize on glory’s pall,
I walk’d with silence in a cloud of thought:
So, what they erst had learn’d, I mine own spirit taught.
