Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/36

 Or have they any sense of why they sing? And would they praise the heavens for what they have?" And I made answer, "Were there nothing else For which to praise the heavens but only love, That only love were cause enough for praise." Lightly he laugh'd, as one that read my thought. And on we went; but ere an hour had pass'd, We reach'd a meadow slanting to the North; Down which a well-worn pathway courted us To one green wicket in a privet hedge; This, yielding, gave into a grassy walk Thro' crowded lilac-ambush trimly pruned; And one warm gust, full-fed with perfume, blew Beyond us, as we enter'd in the cool. The garden stretches southward. In the midst A cedar spread his dark-green layers of shade. The garden-glasses shone, and momently The twinkling laurel scatter'd silver lights. "Eustace," I said, "this wonder keeps the house." He nodded, but a moment afterwards He cried. "Look! look!" Before he ceased I turn'd, And, ere a star can wink, beheld her there.