BOOK II.

CANTO III.

Winding 'twixt matted hedges dimmed with dust,

Yet starred with bramble-blooms and blushing bells

Of almond-scented bindweed, fluttered o'er

By aimless butterflies.—High in mid-air

The larks are worshipping; from cottage roofs
Up-waver softest plumes of pale blue smoke,

And half-drest children, flusht from recent sleep

Hang at new-opened doors, and mother-birds
Hop through the dew-drencht meads in eager quest
Of unsuspicious worms to feed their young.
And so by slow degrees the poet's soul,
The Memnon-voice in Arthur's breast awoke
To yield its homage to the blessèd morn,
And all his new-found manhood rising up
And standing on its feet, dons its best arms,
And forth he goes to fight with Destiny.

BOOK II.

CANTO III.

111

BOOK II.

CANTO III.

AND he is gone with eager heart and arm

To be, to do, to win him name and fame

Or so at least he deems, which at the start

Will serve as well as the reality

To give him heart and strength :- and come what

may

Freedom complete is gained, and change of scene, And scope to exercise and to improve

The gift he feels he owns.

Not so with her ;

Lone dove unmated, her ungenial part