Page:Poems - volume 1 - EBBrowning (1844).pdf/255

 And her mouth stirs with the song, like song; and when the notes are finest, 'Tis the eyes that shoot out vocal light, and seem to swell them on.

Then we talked—oh, how we talked! her voice, so cadenced in the talking, Made another singing—of the soul! a music without bars— While the leafy sounds of woodlands, humming round where we were walking. Brought interposition worthy-sweet,—as skies about the stars.

And she spake such good thoughts natural, as if she always thought them— And had sympathies so ready, open, free as bird on branch. Just as ready to fly east as west, whichever way besought them, In the birchen wood a chirrup, or a cock-crow in the grange.