VII. But since I heard him make reply "Twere well to question him, and try VIII. Hail, hidden to the knees in fern, IX. Say thou, whereon I carved her name, If ever maid or spouse, As fair as my Olivia, came To rest beneath thy boughs ?— X. "O Walter, I have sheltered here Whatever maiden grace The good old Summers, year by year, Made ripe in Sumner-chace: XI. "Old Summers, when the monk was fat, XII. "Ere yet, in scorn of Peter's-pence, XIII. "And I have seen some score of those Fresh faces, that would thrive When his man-minded offset rose XIV. "And all that from the town would stroll, XV. "The slight she-slips of loyal blood, XVI. "And I have shadowed many a group XVII. "And, leg and arm with love-knots gay, About me leaped and laughed The modish Cupid of the day, XVIII. "I swear (and else may insects prick This girl, for whom your heart is sick, XIX. "For those and theirs, by Nature's law, Have faded long ago; But in these latter springs I saw Your own Olivia blow, XX. “From when she gambolled on the greens, A baby-germ, to when The maiden blossoms of her teens XXI. "I swear, by leaf, and wind, and rain, (And hear me with thine ears,) That, though I circle in the grain Five hundred rings of years XXII. "Yet, since I first could cast a shade, XXIII. "For as to fairies, that will flit XXIV. O, hide thy knotted knees in fern, And from thy topmost branch discern XXV. But thou, whereon I carved her name, XXVI. "O yesterday, you know, the fair Was holden at the town; Her father left his good arm-chair, XXVII. "And with him Albert came on his. So seems she to the boy. XXVIII. An hour had past-and, sitting straight XXIX. "But, as for her, she stayed at home, XXX. "She left the novel half-uncut XXXI. "Then ran she, gamesome as the colt, And livelier than a lark She sent her voice through all the holt Before her, and the park. XXXII. "A light wind chased her on the wing, And in the chase grew wild, As close as might be would he cling XXXIII. "But light as any wind that blows So fleetly did she stir, The flower, she touched on, dipt and rose, And turned to look at her. XXXIV. "And here she came, and round me played, XXXV. you made "And in a fit of frolic mirth XXXVI. "I wished myself the fair young beech That round me, clasping each in each, XXXVII. "Yet seemed the pressure thrice as sweet As woodbine's fragile hold, Or when I feel about my feet XXXVIII. O muffle round thy knees with fern, XXXIX. But tell me, did she read the name |