(Unconscious fascination, undesign’d!)
The orison repeated in his arms,
For God to bless her sire and all mankind;
The book, the bosom on his knee reclined,
Or how sweet fairy-lore he heard her con,
(The playmate ere the teacher of her mind):
All uncompanion’d else her heart had gone
Till now, in Gertrude’s eyes, their ninth blue summer shone.
‘And summer was the tide, and sweet the hour,
When sire and daughter saw, with fleet descent,