Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/198

xii.

And once my arm was lifted to hew down

A cavalier from off his saddle-bow,
That bore a lady from a leaguer'd town;
And then, I know not how,

xiii.

All those sharp fancies, by down-lapsing thought

Stream'd onward, lost their edges, and did creep
Roll'd on each other, rounded, smooth'd, and brought
Into the gulfs of sleep.

xiv.

At last methought that I had wander'd far

In an old wood: fresh-wash'd in coolest dew,
The maiden splendours of the morning star
Shook in the stedfast blue.

xv.

Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and lean

Upon the dusky brushwood underneath
Their broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green,
New from its silken sheath.