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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,
And he had squeezed himself betwixt the bars,
And he had breath'd the Proctor's dogs; and one
Discuss'd his tutor, rough to common men,
But honeying at the whisper of a lord;
And one the Master, as a rogue in grain

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 Such women, but convention beats them down: It is but bringing up; no more than that: You men have done it: how I hate you all! Ah, were I something great! I wish I were Some mighty poetess, I would shame you then, That love to keep us children! OI wish That I were some great princess, I would build Far off from men a college like a man's,

And I would teach them all that men are taught; We are twice as quick!" And here she shook aside

The hand that play'd the patron with her curls.

And one said smiling "Pretty were the sight
If our old halls could change their sex, and flaunt
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans,
And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair.
I think they should not wear our rusty gowns,
But move as rich as Emperor-moths, or Ralph
Who shines so in the corner; yet I fear,

If there were many Lilias in the brood,
However deep you might embower the nest,

Some boy would spy it."

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 "petty Ogress," and "ungrateful Puss," 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.

"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,
And bites it for true heart and not for harm,
So he with Lilia's. Daintily she shriek'd
And wrung it. "Doubt my word again!" he said.
"Come, listen! here is proof that you were miss'd:

We seven stay'd at Christmas up to read;

And there we took one tutor as to read:

The hard-grain'd Muses of the cube and square

Were out of season: never man, I think,

So moulder'd in a sinecure as he:

For while our cloisters echo'd frosty feet,

And our long walks were stript as bare as brooms, We did but talk you over, pledge you all

In wassail; often, like as many girls

Sick for the hollies and the yews of home-
As many little trifling Lilias-play'd

Charades and riddles as at Christmas here,

And what's my thought and when and where and

how,

And often told a tale from mouth to mouth

As here at Christmas."

She remember'd that :

A pleasant game, she thought: she liked it more

Than magic music, forfeits, all the rest.

But these what kind of tales did men tell men,

She wonder'd, by themselves?

A half-disdain

Perch'd on the pouted blossom of her lips:
And Walter nodded at me; "He began,
The rest would follow, each in turn; and so

We forged a sevenfold story. Kind? what kind?

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