Yet deem not Gertrude sighed for foreign joy; To soothe a father’s couch her only care, And keep his reverend head from all annoy: For this, methinks, her homeward steps repair, Soon as the morning wreath had bound her hair; While yet the wild deer trod in spangling dew, While boatmen carolled to the fresh-blown air, And woods a horizontal shadow threw, And early fox appeared in momentary view. IX. Apart there was a deep untrodden grot, Where oft the reading hours sweet Gertrude wore. Tradition had not named its lonely spot; But here (methinks) might India’s sons explore Their fathers’ dust,[45] or lift, perchance of yore, Their voice to the great Spirit:—rocks sublime To human art a sportive semblance bore, And yellow lichens coloured all the clime, Like moonlight battlements, and towers decayed by time. X. But high in amphitheatre above, His arms the everlasting aloes threw: Breathed but an air of heaven, and all the grove As if with instinct living spirit grew, Rolling its verdant gulfs of every hue; And now suspended was the pleasing din, Now from a murmur faint it swelled anew, Like the first note of organ heard within Cathedral aisles,—ere yet its symphony begin. XI. It was in this lone valley she would charm The lingering noon, where flowers a couch had strewn; Her cheek reclining, and her snowy arm On hillock by the palm-tree half o’ergrown: And aye that volume on her lap is thrown, Which every heart of human mould endears; With Shakespeare’s self she speaks and smiles alone, And no intruding visitation fears, To shame the unconscious laugh, or stop her sweetest tears. XII. And nought within the grove was heard or seen But stock-doves ’plaining through its gloom profound, Or winglet of the fairy humming bird, Like atoms of the rainbow fluttering round; When, lo! there entered to its inmost ground A youth, the stranger of a distant land; He was, to wit, for eastern mountains bound; But late the equator suns his cheek had tanned, And California’s gales his roving bosom fanned. XIII. A steed, whose rein hung loosely o’er his arm, He led dismounted; ere his leisure pace, Amid the brown leaves, could her ear alarm, Close he had come, and worshipped for a space Those downcast features:—she her lovely face Uplift on one, whose lineaments and frame Were youth and manhood’s intermingled grace: Iberian seemed his boot—his robe the same, And well the Spanish plume his lofty looks became. XIV. For Albert’s home he sought—her finger fair Has pointed where the father’s mansion stood. Returning from the copse he soon was there And soon has Gertrude hied from dark green wood Nor joyless, by the converse, understood Between the man of age and pilgrim young That gay congeniality of mood, And early liking from acquaintance sprung; Full fluently conversed their guest in England’s tongue. XV.