XV. "The slight she-slips of loyal blood, For puritanic stays: XVI. "And I have shadowed many a group Of beauties, that were born In teacup-times of hood and hoop, XVII. "And, leg and arm with love-knots gay, About me leaped and laughed The modish Cupid of the day, And shrilled his tinsel shaft. XVIII. "I swear (and else may insects prick Each leaf into a gall) This girl, for whom your heart is sick, Is three times worth them all; XIX. "For those and theirs, by Nature's law, Have faded long ago; But in these latter springs I saw Your own Olivia blow, XX. "From when she gambolled on the greens, A baby-germ, to when The maiden blossoms of her teens Could number five from ten. XXI. "I swear, by leaf, and wind, and rain, XXII. Yet, since I first could cast a shade, Did never creature pass So slightly, musically made, So light upon the grass: XXIII. "For as to fairies, that will flit I hold them exquisitely knit, XXIV. O, hide thy knotted knees in fern, And overlook the chace; And from thy topmost branch discern The roofs of Sumner-place. XXV. But thou, whereon I carved her name, That oft hast heard my vows, Declare when last Olivia came To sport beneath thy boughs. XXVI. "O yesterday, you know, the fair Her father left his good arm-chair, XXVII. "And with him Albert came on his. I looked at him with joy: As cowslip unto oxlip is, So seems she to the boy. XXVIII. “An hour had past—and, sitting straight Within the low-wheeled chaise, Her mother trundled to the gate Behind the dappled grays. XXIX. “But, as for her, she staid at home, And down the way you use to come XXX. "She left the novel half-uncut Upon the rosewood shelf; She left the new piano shut : She could not please herself. XXXI. “Then ran she, gamesome as the colt, And livelier than a lark She sent her voice through all the holt XXXII. "A light wind chased her on the wing, As close as might be would he cling XXXIII. "But light as any wind that blows So fleetly did she stir, The flower, she touched on, dipt and rose, And turned to look at her. XXXIV. "And here she came, and round me played, And sang to me the whole Of those three stanzas that you made |