v.
I stand alone. I stand beneath the trees,
I guess their thoughts; I hear them to the breeze
Say tender nothings; and I dream the while
Of thy white arms, and thy remember'd smile,
When, in a spot like this, a year a-gone,
I saw thee stoop to pluck from off the lawn
A wounded bird that peer'd into thy face
As if it took thee for the nymph of dawn!