Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/198

 And once my arm was lifted to hew down A cavalier from off his saddle-bow, That bore a lady from a leaguer'd town; And then, I know not how,

All those sharp fancies, by down-lapsing thought Stream'd onward, lost their edges, and did creep Roll'd on each other, rounded, smooth'd, and brought Into the gulfs of sleep.

At last methought that I had wander'd far In an old wood: fresh-wash'd in coolest dew, The maiden splendours of the morning star Shook in the stedfast blue.

Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and lean Upon the dusky brushwood underneath Their broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green, New from its silken sheath.