Page:Poems - volume 1 - EBBrowning (1844).pdf/245

 And their voices low with fashion, not with feeling, softly freighted All the air about the windows, with elastic laughters sweet.

For at eve, the open windows flung their light out on the terrace, Which the floating orbs of curtains, did with gradual shadow sweep; While the swans upon the river, fed at morning by the heiress. Trembled downward through their snowy wings, at music in their sleep.

And there evermore was music, both of instrument and singing. Till the finches of the shrubberies, grew restless in the dark; But the cedars stood up motionless, each in a moonlight ringing. And the deer, half in the glimmer, strewed the hollows of the park.