There are perhaps some little calves, some little new-yeaned lambsit may be twins, whose mothers have rejected them: Miss Keeldar ... must permit herself the treat of feeding them with her own hand.

Dismounting, then, he leaned against a thorn; He had no follower, dog, nor man, nor boy: He neither cracked his whip, nor blew his horn, 35 But gazed upon the spoil with silent joy. Close to the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned, Stood his dumb partner in this glorious feat; Weak as a lamb the hour that it is yeaned; And white with foam as if with cleaving sleet.