V.

For--saving where the grey rocks strike Their javelins up the azure, Or where deep fissures miser-like Hoard up some fountain treasure, (And e'en in them, stoop down and hear, Leaf sounds with water in your ear,--)

The place is all awave with trees, Limes, myrtles purple-beaded, Acacias having drunk the lees Of the night-dew, faint-headed, And wan grey olive-woods which seem The fittest foliage for a dream.