2               ACCOLOS' OF GAUL.

And where a river bubbled through the sward
A mist lay sleeply; and it was hard
To see whence sorung it, to what seas it led,
How broadly spread and what it was it fled
So ceasless in its sighs, and bickering on
Into romance or some bewildering dawn
Of wisest legend from the storied wells
Of lost Paranton, where old Merlin dwells,
Nodding a white poll and a grand, gray beard
As if some, Lake Lady6 he, listening, heard,
Who spake like water, danced like careful showers
With blown gold curls thro' drifts of wild-thorn flowers;
Loose, lazy arms in graceful movement tossed,
Float flower-like down a woodland vista, lost
In some peculia.- note that wrings a tear
Slow down his withered cheek. And then steals near
Her sweet, ascivious brow's white wonderment,
And gray rude cyes, and hair which hath the scent
Of the wildwood Brceliand's perfumes
In Brittany; and in it one red bloom's
Blood-drop thrust deep, and so " Sweet Viviane !"
All the glad leav s lisp like a young, soft rain
From top to top, until a running surge
The dark, witch-haunted solitude will urge,
That shakes and sounds and stammers as from sleep
Some giant were aroused; and with a leap