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CONFESSIONS OF
"And perfect limbs, as from the storm
"Of running fires and fluid range
"Of lawless airs, at last stood out
"This excellence and solid form
"Of constant beauty. For the Ox
"Feeds in the herb, and sleeps, or fills
"The hornéd valleys all about,
"And hollows of the fringed hills
"In summerheats, with placid lows
"Unfearing, till his own blood flows
"About his hoof. And in the flocks
"The lamb rejoiceth in the year,
"And raceth freely with his fere,
"And answers to his mother's calls
"From the flowered furrow. In a time,
"Of which he wots not, run short pains
"Through his warm heart; and then, from whence
"He knows not, on his light there falls
"A shadow; and his native slope,
"Where he was wont to leap and climb,
"Of running fires and fluid range
"Of lawless airs, at last stood out
"This excellence and solid form
"Of constant beauty. For the Ox
"Feeds in the herb, and sleeps, or fills
"The hornéd valleys all about,
"And hollows of the fringed hills
"In summerheats, with placid lows
"Unfearing, till his own blood flows
"About his hoof. And in the flocks
"The lamb rejoiceth in the year,
"And raceth freely with his fere,
"And answers to his mother's calls
"From the flowered furrow. In a time,
"Of which he wots not, run short pains
"Through his warm heart; and then, from whence
"He knows not, on his light there falls
"A shadow; and his native slope,
"Where he was wont to leap and climb,
