IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



For as some trees draw the lightning, 

 So this tree, unto my mind, 

 Drew to earth the blessed sunshine from the sky 

 where it was shrined. 



Tall the linden-tree and near it, 

 An old hawthorn also grew; 

 And wood-ivy like a spirit 

 Hovered dimly round the two, 

 Shaping thence that bower of beauty which I 

 sing of thus to you. 



'Twas a bower for garden fitter 

 Than for any woodland wide; 

 Though a fresh and dewy glitter 

 Struck it through from side to side, 

 Shaped and shaven was the freshness, as by gar- 

 den-cunning plied. 



Oh, a lady might have come there, 

 Hooded fairly like her hawk, 

 With a book or lute in summer, 

 And a hope of sweeter talk, 

 Listening less to her own music than for foot- 

 steps on the walk! 



[214] 



