We turn'd to go, but Cyril took the child, And held her round the knees against his waist, While Psyche watch'd them, smiling, and the child And then we stroll'd For half the day thro' stately theatres Bench'd crescent-wise. In each we sat, we heard The grave Professor. On the lecture slate The circle rounded under female hands With flawless demonstration: follow'd then A classic lecture, rich in sentiment, With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out And quoted odes, and jewels five-words-long The morals, something of the frame, the rock, The star, the bird, the fish, the shell, the flower, Electric, chemic laws, and all the rest, And whatsoever can be taught and known; We issued gorged with knowledge, and I spoke : Why, Sirs, they do all this as well as we.' • They hunt old trails' said Cyril' very well; But when did woman ever yet invent?' 6 'Ungracious!' answer'd Florian, have you learnt No more from Psyche's lecture, you that talk'd Should I not call her wise, who made me wise? And every Muse tumbled a science in. A thousand hearts lie fallow in these halls, And round these halls a thousand baby loves Fly twanging headless arrows at the hearts, And two dear things are one of double worth, The Doctors! O to watch the thirsty plants To break my chain, to shake my mane: but thou, Make liquid treble of that bassoon, my throat; Abase those eyes that ever loved to meet Star-sisters answering under crescent brows; Abate the stride, which speaks of man, and loose A flying charm of blushes o'er this cheek, Where they like swallows coming out of time Will wonder why they came: but hark the bell For dinner, let us go!' And in we stream'd Among the columns, pacing staid and still How might a man not wander from his wits Pierced thro' with eyes, but that I kept mine own Intent on her, who rapt in awful dreams, The second-sight of some Astræan age, Sat compass'd with professors: they, the while, Discuss'd a doubt and tost it to and fro: A clamour thicken'd, mixt with inmost terms Of art and science: Lady Blanche alone Of faded form and haughtiest lineaments, With all her Autumn tresses falsely brown, In act to spring. At last a solemn grace Concluded, and we sought the gardens: there One walk'd reciting by herself, and one In this hand held a volume as to read, And smoothed a petted peacock down with that: Some to a low song oar'd a shallop by, Or under arches of the marble bridge Hung, shadow'd from the heat some hid and sought In the orange thickets: others tost a ball Above the fountain-jets, and back again With laughter: others lay about the lawns, They wish'd to marry; they could rule a house; Men hated learned women: but we three E |