A shuttlecock! And following slow
The zigzag of its to-and-fro,
And so intent upon its flight
She neither look'd to left nor right,
Came a tall girl with floating hair,
Light as a wood-nymph, and as fair.
O Dea certé!—thought poor Dick,
And thereupon his memories quick
Ran back to her who flung the ball
In Homer's page, and next to all
The dancing maids that bards have sung;
Lastly to One at home, as young,
As fresh, as light of foot, and glad,
Who, when he went, had seem'd so sad.
O Dea certé! (Still, he stirred
Nor hand nor foot, nor uttered word.)
Meanwhile the shuttlecock in air
Went darting gaily here and there;
Now crossed a mirror's face, and next
Shot up amidst the sprawl'd, perplex'd
Olympus overhead. At last,
Jerk'd sidelong by a random cast,
The striker miss'd it, and it fell
Full on the book Dick knew so well.
(If he had thought to speak or bow,
Judge if he moved a muscle now!)
The player paused, bent down to look,
Lifted a cover of the book;
Pished at the Prologue, passed it o'er,
Went forward for a page or more
(Asem and Asa: Dick could trace
Almost the passage and the place);
Then for a moment with bent head
Rested upon her hand and read.
(Dick thought once more how cousin Cis
Used when she read to lean like this;—
"Used when she read,"—why, Cis could say
All he had written,—any day!)
Sudden was heard a hurrying tread;
The great doors creaked. The reader fled.
Forth came a crowd with muffled laughter,
A waft of Bergamot, and after,
His Chaplain smirking at his side,
My Lord himself in all his pride—
A portly shape in stars and lace,
With wine-bag cheeks and vacant face.
Dick bowed and smiled. The Great Man stared,
With look half puzzled and half scared;
Then seemed to recollect, turned round,
And mumbled some imperfect sound:
A moment more, his coach of state
Dipped on its springs beneath his weight;
And Dick, who followed at his heels,
Heard but the din of rolling wheels.
Away, too, all his dreams had rolled;
And yet they left him half consoled:
Fame, after all, he thought might wait.
Would Cis? Suppose he were too late!
Ten months he'd lost in Town—an age!
Next day he took the Wiltshire Stage.