Justinian at Windermere
We took a hundredweight of booksTo Windermere between us,Our dons had blessed our studious looks,Had they by chance but seen us.
Maine, Blackstone, Sandars, all were there,And Hallam's Middle Ages,And Austin with his style so rare,And Poste's enticing pages.
We started well: the little innWas deadly dull and quiet,As dull as Mrs. Wood's East Lynne,Or as the verse of Wyatt.
Without distraction thus we readFrom nine...
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