And deftly, daintily, one by one,
Shelters her baskets from the sun,
Under the network, fresh and cool,
Of lily-leaves from the crystal pool.
7.
Turning her violet eyes, their rays
Glistened full in the young man’s gaze;
And each at each, for a moment’s space,
Looked with a diffident surprise.
“Heaven!” thought Hugh, “what artless grace