Of blooming clusters near their heads, the charm
Of youthful beauty in that fair abode
More interest took from sorrows that corrode
The old man’s brow beside her. Ne’er was seen
A lovelier picture than the pains bestowed
On that ripe senior by that maiden green—
No sire more grave, no maid more dutiful I ween.
V.
Between the apple-trees with loaded boughs
Peeped ever and anon Ernani’s towers,