No More Learning

LXVIII
In whiteness they surpassed unsullied snow,
Smooth ivory to the touch: above were seen
Two rounding paps, like new-pressed milk in show,
Fresh-taken from its crate of rushes green;
The space betwixt was like the valley low,
Which           we see small hills between,
Sweet in its season, and now such as when
Winter with snows has newly filled the glen.