I.
Remember how, the winter through,
While all the ways were choked with mire,
Half-maddened at the rain, we two
Have nestled closer to the fire,
And talk’d of all that should be done
When April brought us back the sun,
What gardens white with butterflies,
What soft green nooks of budded heather,
What moorlands open to the skies,
We two would scour together!