Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/75

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AYLMER’S FIELD.
59
A frequent haunt of Edith, on low knollsThat dimpling died into each other, hutsAt random scatter'd, each a nest in bloom.Her art, her hand, her counsel all had wroughtAbout them: here was one that, summer-blanch'd,Was parcel-bearded with the traveller's-joyIn Autumn, parcel ivy-clad; and hereThe warm-blue breathings of a hidden hearthBroke from a bower of vine and honeysuckle:One look'd all rosetree, and another woreA close-set robe of jasmine sown with stars:This had a rosy sea of gillyflowersAbout it; this, a milky-way on earth,Like visions in the Northern dreamer's heavens,A lily-avenue climbing to the doors;One, almost to the martin-haunted eavesA summer burial deep in hollyhocks;Each, its own charm; and Edith's everywhere;And Edith ever visitant with him,He but less loved than Edith, of her poor:
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