Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 2 of 2.djvu/78

 Hail, hidden to the knees in fern, Broad Oak of Sumner-chace, Whose topmost branches can discern The roofs of Sumner-place!

Say thou, whereon I carved her name, If ever maid or spouse, As fair as my Olivia, came To rest beneath thy boughs.—

O Walter, I have shelter'd here Whatever maiden grace The good old Summers, year by year, Made ripe in Sumner-chace:

Old Summers, when the monk was fat, And, issuing shorn and sleek, Would twist his girdle tight, and pat The girls upon the cheek,