Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/57

 Like Indian reeds blown from his silver tongue, And of so fierce a flight, From Calpe unto Caucasus they sung, Filling with light

And vagrant melodies the winds which bore Them earthward till they lit; Then, like the arrow-seeds of the field flower, The fruitful wit

Cleaving, took root, and springing forth anew Where'er they fell, behold, Like to the mother plant in semblance, grew A flower all gold,

And bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling The winged shafts of truth, To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring Of Hope and Youth.