Page:Poems - volume 1 - EBBrowning (1844).pdf/246

 And though sometimes she would bind me with her silver-corded speeches, To commix my words and laughter with the converse and the jest, — Oft I sate apart, and gazing on the river, through the beeches, Heard, as pure the swans swam down it, her pure voice o'erfloat the rest.

In the morning, horn of huntsman, hoof of steed, and laugh of rider, Spread out cheery from the court-yard, till we lost them in the hills; While herself and other ladies, and her suitors left beside her, Went a-wandering up the gardens, through the laurels and abeles.

Thus, her foot upon the new-mown grass—bareheaded—with the flowings Of the virginal white vesture, gathered closely to her throat;