Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/283

Rh Golden bells of welcome rolled Never forth such notes, nor told Hours so blithe in tones so bold, As the radiant mouth of gold Here that rings forth heaven. If the golden-crested wren Were a nightingale—why, then, Something seen and heard of men Might be half as sweet as when Laughs a child of seven.