For oft I talk'd with him apart, And told him of my choice, Until he plagiarised a heart, And answer'd with a voice. Tho' what he whisper'd, under Heaven I found him garrulously given, But since I heard him make reply 'T were well to question him, and try Hail, hidden to the knees in fern, Say thou, whereon I carved her name, If ever maid or spouse, As fair as my Olivia, came To rest beneath thy boughs. "O Walter, I have shelter'd here The good old Summers, year by year, "Old Summers, when the monk was fat, And, issuing shorn and sleek, Would twist his girdle tight, and pat The girls upon the cheek, "Ere yet, in scorn of Peter's-pence, "And I have seen some score of those "And all that from the town would stroll, "The slight she-slips of loyal blood, “And I have shadow'd many a group "And, leg and arm with love-knots gay, About me leap'd and laugh'd The modish Cupid of the day, "I swear (and else may insects prick This girl, for whom your heart is sick, "For those and theirs, by Nature's law, Have faded long ago; But in these latter springs I saw 66 Your own Olivia blow, From when she gamboll'd on the greens, A baby-germ, to when The maiden blossoms of her teens Could number five from ten. “I swear, by leaf, and wind, and rain, “Yet, since I first could cast a shade, "For as to fairies, that will flit I hold them exquisitely knit, Oh, hide thy knotted knees in fern, And from thy topmost branch discern The roofs of Sumner-place. But thou, whereon I carved her name, To sport beneath thy boughs. "O yesterday, you know, the fair "And with him Albert came on his. I look'd at him with joy : As cowslip unto oxlip is, So seems she to the boy. "An hour had past — and, sitting straight "But, as for her, she stay'd at home, And down the way you use to come, "She left the novel half-uncut "Then ran she, gamesome as the colt, She sent her voice thro' all the holt "A light wind chased her on the wing, As close as might be would he cling "But light as any wind that blows So fleetly did she stir, The flower, she touch'd on, dipt and rose, And turn'd to look at her. "And here she came, and round me play'd, And sang to me the whole Of those three stanzas that you made "And in a fit of frolic mirth She strove to span my waist : "I wish'd myself the fair young beech That round me, clasping each in each, "Yet seem'd the pressure thrice as sweet As woodbine's fragile hold, Or when I feel about my feet O muffle round thy knees with fern, But tell me, did she read the name When last with throbbing heart I came |