Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/61

 No lovelier laughed the garden which receives Yet, and yet hides not from our following eyes With soft rose-laurels and low strawberry-leaves, Ternissa, sweet as April-coloured skies, Bowed like a flowering reed when May's wind heaves The reed-bed that the stream kisses and sighs, In love that shrinks and murmurs and believes What yet the wisest of the starriest wise Whom Greece might ever hear Speaks in the gentlest ear That ever heard love's lips philosophize With such deep-reasoning words As blossoms use and birds, Nor heeds Leontion lingering till they rise