When last with throbbing heart I came XL. "O yes, she wandered round and round These knotted knees of mine, And found, and kissed the name she found, And sweetly murmured thine. XLI. "A tear-drop trembled from its source, My sense of touch is something coarse, XLII. "Then flushed her cheek with rosy light, XLIII. "Her kisses were so close and kind, XLIV. "And even into my inmost ring Like those blind motions of the Spring, 66 XLV. Thrice-happy he that may caress The cushions of whose touch may press XLVI. "I, rooted here among the groves, But languidly adjust My vapid vegetable loves With anthers and with dust: XLVII. "For ah! my friend, the days were brief Whereof the poets talk, When that, which breathes within the leaf, Could slip its bark and walk. XLVIII. "But could I, as in times foregone, XLIX. "She had not found me so remiss; L. O flourish high, with leafy towers, Pursue thy loves among the bowers, LI. O flourish, hidden deep in fern, LII. ""Tis little more: the day was warm; At last, tired out with play, She sank her head upon her arm, LIII. "Her eyelids dropped their silken eaves. LIV. "I took the swarming sound of life— LV. "Sometimes I let a sunbeam slip, LVI. "A third would glimmer on her neck To make the necklace shine; Another slid, a sunny fleck, From head to ankle fine. LVII. "Then close and dark my arms I spread, LVIII. "But in a pet she started up, LIX. "And yet it was a graceful gift— As when I see the woodman lift LX. "I shook him down because he was He lies beside thee on the grass. LXI. "O kiss him twice and thrice for me, That have no lips to kiss, For never yet was oak on lea Shall grow so fair as this." LXII. Step deeper yet in herb and fern, Look further through the chace, Spread upward till thy boughs discern The front of Sumner-place. LXIII. This fruit of thine by Love is blest, Where fairer fruit of Love may rest LXIV. I kiss it twice, I kiss it thrice, The warmth it thence shall win To riper life may magnetize LXV. But thou, while kingdoms overset, Or lapse from hand to hand, Thy leaf shall never fail, nor yet LXVI. May never saw dismember thee, LXVII. O rock upon thy towery top LXVIII. All grass of silky feather grow- LXIX. The fat earth feed thy branchy root, LXX. Nor ever lightning char thy grain, Low thunders bring the mellow rain, LXXI. And hear me swear a solemn oath, Will I to Olive plight my troth, |