Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/196

158 Her 'havior had the morning's fresh clear grace,

The spirit of the woods was in her face;

She looked so witching fair, that learned wight

Forgot his craft, and his best wits took flight,

And he grew fond, and eager to obey

His mistress, use her empire as she may.

They came to where the brushwood ceased, and day

Peered 'twixt the stems; and the ground broke away

In a sloped sward down to a brawling brook.

And up as high as where they stood to look

On the brook's farther side was clear; but then

The underwood and trees began again.

This open glen was studded thick with thorns

Then white with blossom; and you saw the horns,

Through last year's fern, of the shy fallow-deer

Who come at noon down to the water here.

You saw the bright-eyed squirrels dart along

Under the thorns on the green sward; and strong

The blackbird whistled from the dingles near,

And the weird chipping of the woodpecker

Rang lonelily and sharp; the sky was fair,

And a fresh breath of spring stirred everywhere.

Merlin and Vivian stopped on the slope's brow,

To gaze on the light sea of leaf and bough

Which glistering plays all round them, lone and mild,

As if to itself the quiet forest smiled.

Upon the brow-top grew a thorn, and here

The grass was dry and mossed, and you saw clear

Across the hollow; white anemones

Starred the cool turf, and clumps of primroses

Ran out from the dark underwood behind.

No fairer resting-place a man could find.