Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/128

 Banks green and smooth, with stems beset, And such a shade o'erhead As lapped a richer violet Upon a mossier bed; Retired, yet free to eve and morn, Such haunts the ranging deer Would mark, and lead her trotting fawn To couch in sunshine here.

How wildly leaned those antic trees! Like Bacchanals they flung Their arms,—upon their ecstacies As upon wings they hung! Yet here no riotous thoughts intrude; Even in these postures free Is seen the staid and stately mood Of Nature's liberty.

What pageantry is here to pass? Those sheets of golden green, Spread they for none across the grass, Or for a Fairy Queen? March on, proud Creatures, in your state, While ivy sparkles bright, And mossy stems illuminate With a sedater light.