CHAPTER 1
I Stood Tiptoe Upon a Little Hill
CHAPTER 1Visible text2 paragraphs
"Places of nestling green, for poets made."
Leigh Hunt, The Story of Rimini
I stood tiptoe upon a little hill,
The air was cooling, and so very still
That the sweet buds which with a modest pride
Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,
Their scantly-leaved and finely tapering stems,
Had not yet lost those starry diadems
Caught from the early sobbing of the morn.
I stood tiptoe upon a little hill,
The air was cooling, and so very still
That the sweet buds which with a modest pride
Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,
Their scantly-leaved and finely tapering stems,
Had not yet lost those starry diadems
Caught from the early sobbing of the morn.