And me that morning Walter show'd the house, Greek, set with busts: from vases in the hall Flowers of all heavens, and lovelier than their names, Grew side by side; and on the pavement lay Carved stones of the Abbey-ruin in the Huge Ammonites, and the first bones of And on the tables every clime and age From the isles of palm and higher on A. TENNYSON A good knight he! we keep a chronicls With all about him" which he brought and I Dived in a hoard of tales that dealt with knights Half-legend, half-historic, counts and kings Who laid about them at their wills and died; And mixt with these, a lady, one that arm'd Her own fair head, and sallying thro' the gate, Had beat her foes with slaughter from her walls. "O miracle of women," said the book, "O noble heart who, being strait-besieged By this wild king to force her to his wish, Nor bent, nor broke, nor shunn'd a soldier's death, But now when all was lost or seem'd as Her stature more than mortal in the burst gate, And, falling on them like a thunderbolt, She trampled some beneath her horses' heels, And some were whelm'd with missiles of the wall, And some were push'd with lances from the rock, And part were drown'd within the whirling brook : Betwixt the monstrous horns of elk and O miracle of noble womanhood!" deer, His own forefathers' arms and armor hung. And "this" he said 66 So sang the gallant glorious chronicle; And, I all rapt in this, "Come out," he said, "To the Abbey: there is Aunt Elizabeth And sister Lilia with the rest." We went (I kept the book and had my finger in it) | Came to the ruins. High-arch'd and ivyDown thro' the park: strange was the sight to me; For all the sloping pasture murmur'd, sown With happy faces and with holiday. There moved the multitude, a thousand heads: The patient leaders of their Institute Taught them with facts. One rear'd a font of stone And drew, from butts of water on the slope, The fountain of the moment, playing now A twisted snake, and now a rain of pearls, Or steep-up spout whereon the gilded ball Danced like a wisp and somewhat lower down A man with knobs and wires and vials fired A cannon Echo answer'd in her sleep From hollow fields and here were telescopes For azure views; and there a group of girls In circle waited, whom the electric shock Dislink'd with shrieks and laughter: round the lake A little clock-work steamer paddling plied And shook the lilies: perch'd about the knolls A dozen angry models jetted steam: Pure sport a herd of boys with clamor bowl'd And stump'd the wicket; babies roll'd about Like tumbled fruit in grass; and men and maids Arranged a country dance, and flew thro' light And shadow, while the twangling violin Struck up with Soldier-laddie, and overhead The broad ambrosial aisles of lofty lime Made noise with bees and breeze from end to end. Strange was the sight and smacking of the time; And long we gazed, but satiated at length claspt, Of finest Gothic lighter than a fire, Thro' one wide chasm of time and frost they gave The park, the crowd, the house; but all within The sward was trim as any garden lawn: A broken statue propt against the wall, 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 thou- | At wine, in clubs, of art, of politics; 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 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 Vivianplace, 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." But Walter hail'd a score of names upon | A pleasant game, she thought: she liked her, And "petty Ogress," and "ungrateful Puss," And swore he long'd at college, only long'd, 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 They boated and they cricketed; they Perch'd on the pouted blossom of her lips: And Walter nodded at me ; 66 He began, All else was well, for she-society. talk'd SO We forged a sevenfold story. Kind? The rest would follow, each in turn; and, From time to time, some ballad or a song what kind? Chimeras, crotchets, Christmas solecisms, "Kill him now, The tyrant! kill him in the summer too," Said Lilia; "Why not now," the maiden Aunt. "Why not a summer's as a winter's tale? Heroic, for a hero lies beneath, Walter warp'd his mouth at this To something so mock-solemn, that I laugh'd And Lilia woke with sudden-shrilling An echo like a ghostly woodpecker, With color) turn'd to me with "As you will; Heroic if you will, or what you will, "And make her some great Princess, six Grand, epic, homicidal; and be you "Then follow me, the Prince," I answer'd, "each be hero in his turn! Seven and yet one, like shadows in a dream. Heroic seems our Princess as required- and place, A Gothic ruin and a Grecian house, For which the good Sir Ralph had burnt This were a medley! we should have him back Who told the Winter's tale' to do it for us. No matter we will say whatever comes. Now it chanced that I had been, And bring her in a whirlwind. then ho While life was yet in bud and blade, be And of her brethren, youths of puissance; And still I wore her picture by my heart, And one dark tress; and all around them both chew'd The thrice-turn'd cud of wrath, and cook'd his spleen, Communing with his captains of the war. At last I spoke. "My father, let me go. It cannot be but some gross error lies Or, maybe, I myself, my bride once seen, Sweet thoughts would swarm as bees about Whate'er my grief to find her less than their queen. fame, May rue the bargain made." And Florian said: "I have a sister at the foreign court, Who moves about the Princess; she, you know, Who wedded with a nobleman from He, dying lately, left her, as I hear, And Cyril whisper'd: "Take me with |