Claspt the gray walls with hairy-fibred arms,
And suck’d the joining of the stones, and look’d
A knot, beneath, of snakes, aloft, a grove. 325
And while he waited in the castle court,
The voice of Enid, Yniol’s daughter, rang
Clear through the open casement of the hall,
Singing; and as the sweet voice of a bird,
Heard by the lander in a lonely isle, 330
Moves him to think what kind of bird it is
That sings so delicately clear, and make