Arranged a country dance, and flew thro' light And shadow, while the twangling violin Struck up with Soldier-laddie, and overhead The broad ambrosial aisles of lofty lime Made noise with bees and breeze from end to end. Strange was the sight and smacking of the time; And long we gazed, but satiated at length Thro' one wide chasm of time and frost they gave The sward was trim as any garden lawn: And here we lit on Aunt Elizabeth, And Lilia with the rest, and lady friends From neighbour seats: and there was Ralph himself, A broken statue propt against the wall, As gay as any. Lilia, wild with sport, Half child half woman as she was, had wound A scarf of orange round the stony helm, And robed the shoulders in a rosy silk, That made the old warrior from his ivied nook Glow like a sunbeam: near his tomb a feast Shone, silver-set; about it lay the guests, And there we join'd them: then the maiden Aunt Took this fair day for text, and from it preach'd An universal culture for the crowd, And all things great; but we, unworthier, told Of college: he had climb'd across the spikes, But honeying at the whisper of a lord; Veneer'd with sanctimonious theory. But while they talk'd, above their heads I saw The feudal warrior lady-clad ; which brought My book to mind and opening this I read Of old Sir Ralph a page or two that rang With tilt and tourney; then the tale of her That drove her foes with slaughter from her walls, And much I praised her nobleness, and 'Where,' Ask'd Walter, patting Lilia's head (she lay Beside him) lives there such a woman now?' Quick answer'd Lilia There are thousands now That I were some great Princess, I would build And I would teach them all that men are taught ; If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans, I think they should not wear our rusty gowns, If there were many Lilias in the brood, However deep you might embower the nest, At this upon the sward She tapt her tiny silken-sandal'd foot: That's your light way; but I would make it death For any male thing but to peep at us.' Petulant she spoke, and at herself she laugh'd; A rosebud set with little wilful thorns, And sweet as English air could make her, she : But Walter hail'd a score of names upon her, And swore he long'd at College, only long'd, All else was well, for she-society. They boated and they cricketed; they talk'd At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics; They lost their weeks; they vext the souls of deans; They rode; they betted; made a hundred friends, And caught the blossom of the flying terms, But miss'd the mignonette of Vivian-place, The little hearth-flower Lilia. Thus he spoke, Part banter, part affection. 6 True,' she said, 'We doubt not that. O yes, you miss'd us much. I'll stake my ruby ring upon it you did.' She held it out; and as a parrot turns Up thro' gilt wires a crafty loving eye, And takes a lady's finger with all care, So he with Lilia's. Daintily she shriek'd |