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We turn'd to go, but Cyril took the child, And held her round the knees against his waist,
And blew the swoll'n cheek of a trumpeter,
While Psyche watch'd them, smiling, and the child
And thus our conference closed.
And then we stroll’d
For half the day thro' stately theatres
With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out
That treats of whatsoever is, the state,
The total chronicles of man, the mind,
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 ;
Till like three horses that have broken fence,
And glutted all night long breast-deep in corn,
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 ? * Ungracious !' answer'd Florian, have you learnt No more from Psyche's lecture, you that talk'd
The trash that made me sick, and almost sad?'
• O trash' he said but with a kernel in it.
Should I not call her wise, who made me wise ?
And learnt? I learnt more from her in a flash,
Than if my brainpan were an empty hull,
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,
The long-limb’d lad that had a Psyche too ;
He cleft me thro' the stomacher ; and now
of it, Florian? will it hold ?
Shall those three castles patch my tatter'd coat ? For dear are those three castles to my wants,
And dear is sister Psyche to my heart,
And two dear things are one of double worth, And much I might have said, but that my zone
Unmann'd me : then the Doctors !
O to hear
The Doctors !
O to watch the thirsty plants
Imbibing ! once or twice I thought to roar,
Abase those eyes that ever loved to meet
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
By twos and threes, till all from end to end
With beauties every shade of brown and fair,
Pierced thro' with eyes, but that I kept mine own
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,
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 :
In the orange thickets : others tost a ball
Above the fountain-jets, and back again
Men hated learned women : but we three