Melford” as her ideal, “Long Melford” being the good

Bore lightly off the many starry fires;

And not far otherwise we often see

. . . . . .

And the still lakes and the perennial streams

Exhale a mist, and even as earth herself

Is seen at times to smoke, when first at dawn

The light of the sun, the many-rayed, begins

To redden into gold, over the grass