Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/69

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AYLMER’S FIELD.
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Little about it stirring save a brook!A sleepy land where under the same wheelThe same old rut would deepen year by year;Where almost all the village had one name;Where Aylmer follow'd Aylmer at the HallAnd Averill Averill at the RectoryThrice over; so that Rectory and Hall,Bound in an immemorial intimacy,Were open to each other; tho' to dreamThat Love could bind them closer well had madeThe hoar hair of the Baronet bristle upWith horror, worse than had he heard his priestPreach an inverted scripture, sons of menDaughters of God; so sleepy was the land.
 And might not Averill, had he will'd it so,Somewhere beneath his own low range of roofs,Have also set his many-shielded tree?There was an Aylmer-Averill marriage once,When the red rose was redder than itself,
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