XXI.

ON READING SPENSER AGAIN.

Dear, gentle Spenser! thou my soul dost lead, A little child again, through Fairy land, By many a bower and stream of golden sand, And many a sunny plain whose light doth breed A sunshine in my happy heart, and feed My fancy with sweet visions; I become A knight, and with my charmèd arms would roam To seek for fame in many a wondrous deed Of high emprize--for I have seen the light Of Una's angel's face, the golden hair And backward eyes of startled Florimel; And, for their holy sake, I would outdare A host of cruel Paynims in the fight, Or Archimage and all the powers of Hell.