FOR certain minutes at the least br That crafty demon and that loud beast br That plague me day and night br Ran out of my sight; br Though I had long perned in the gyre, br Between my hatred and desire. br I saw my freedom won br And all laugh in the sun. br The glittering eyes in a death's head br Of old Luke Wadding's portrait said br Welcome, and the Ormondes all br Nodded upon the wall, br And even Strafford smiled as though br It made him happier to know br I understood his plan. br Now that the loud beast ran br There was no portrait in the Gallery br But beckoned to sweet company, br For all men's thoughts grew clear br Being dear as mine are dear. br But soon a tear-drop started up, br For aimless joy had made me stop br Beside the little lake br To watch a white gull take br A bit of bread thrown up into the air; br Now gyring down and perning there br He splashed where an absurd br Portly green-pated bird br Shook off the water from his back; br Being no more demoniac br A stupid happy creature br Could rouse my whole nature. br Yet I am certain as can be br That every natural victory br Belongs to beast or demon, br That never yet had freeman br Right mastery of natural things, br And that mere growing old, that brings br Chilled blood, this sweetness brought; br Yet have no dearer thought br Than that I may find out a way br To make it linger half a day.