In that fine air I tremble, all the past Melts mist-like into this bright hour, and this I scarce believe, and all the rich to come Reels, as the golden Autumn woodland reels I waste my heart in signs : let be. My bride, My wife, my life. O we will walk this world, And so thro' those dark gates across the wild That no man knows. Indeed I love thee: come, Yield thyself up my hopes and thine are one : Lay thy sweet hands in mine and trust to me.' CONCLUSION. HERE closed our compound story which at first, Perhaps, but meant to banter little maids With mock-heroics and with parody: But slipt in some strange way, crost with burlesque, 6 From mock to earnest, even into tones Of tragic, and with less and less of jest To such a serious end that Lilia fixt A showery glance upon her Aunt and said You tell us what we are;' who there began A treatise, growing with it, and might have flow'd In axiom worthier to be grav'n on rock, Than all that lasts of old-world hieroglyph, Or lichen-fretted Rune and arrowhead; M But that there rose a shout: the gates were closed At sundown, and the crowd were swarming now, To take their leave, about the garden rails. And I and some went out, and mingled with them. And there we saw Sir Walter where he stood, Before a tower of crimson holly-oaks, Among six boys, head under head, and look'd No little lily-handed Baronet he, A great broad-shoulder'd genial Englishman, A lord of fat prize-oxen and of sheep, A raiser of huge melons and of pine, A patron of some thirty charities, A pamphleteer on guano and on grain, A quarter-sessions chairman, abler none; The long line of the approaching rookery swerve From the elms, and shook the branches of the deer From slope to slope thro' distant ferns, and rang Beyond the bourn of sunset; 0, a shout More joyful than the city-roar that hails But we went back to the Abbey, and sat on, So much the gathering darkness charm'd : Saying little, rapt in nameless reverie, Perchance upon the future man: the walls we sat Blacken'd about us, bats wheel'd, and owls whoop'd, And gradually the powers of the night, That range above the region of the wind, Deepening the courts of twilight broke them up Beyond all thought into the Heaven of Heavens. |