Answer each other in the mist.”
And nothing could be more full of tender feeling than this farewell to the old home in Canto CI., beginning—
“Unwatched, the garden bough shall sway,
The tender blossom flutter down,
Unloved, that beech will gather brown,
This maple burn itself away.”
And in Canto CII.—
“We leave the well-beloved place
Where first we gazed upon the sky;
The roofs that heard our earliest cry