Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/191

Rh Creeps thickly, grows not here; but the pale grass

Is strewn with rocks and many a shivered mass

Of veined white-gleaming quartz, and here and there

Dotted with holly-trees and juniper.

In the smooth centre of the opening stood

Three hollies side by side, and made a screen,

Warm with the winter-sun, of burnished green

With scarlet berries gemmed, the fell-fare's food.

Under the glittering hollies Iseult stands,

Watching her children play: their little hands

Are busy gathering spars of quartz, and streams

Of stagshorn for their hats; anon, with screams

Of mad delight they drop their spoils, and bound

Among the holly-clumps and broken ground,

Racing full speed, and startling in their rush

The fell-fares and the speckled missel-thrush

Out of their glossy coverts; but when now

Their cheeks were flushed, and over each hot brow,

Under the feathered hats of the sweet pair,

In blinding masses showered the golden hair,

Then Iseult called them to her, and the three

Clustered under the holly-screen, and she

Told them an old-world Breton history.

Warm in their mantles wrapped, the three stood there,

Under the hollies, in the clear still air,—

Mantles with those rich furs deep glistering

Which Venice ships do from swart Egypt bring.

Long they stayed still, then, pacing at their ease,

Moved up and down under the glossy trees;

But still, as they pursued their warm dry road,

From Iseult's lips the unbroken story flowed,

And still the children listened, their blue eyes

Fixed on their mother's face in wide surprise.