I’ll point him out. Better know nought of me.
What think you of the gardens?
R.All this hour
I have seemed in Paradise: and the fair prospect
Hath quieted my spirit: I think I sail
Into the windless haven of my life
To-day with happy omens: as the stir
And sleep-forbidding rattle of the journey
Was like my life till now. Here all is peace:
The still fresh air of this October morning,