What ’tis thou hearest here.
A rustling? Yea, aright!
A murmuring? Yea, aright!
Ah, then, thou sayest, ’tis the leaves
That love one ’pon the other.
Yea, and the murmuring, thou sayest,
Is but the streamlet’s hum.
Nay, nay! For wait thee.
Ayonder o’er the wall doth rise
The white faced Sister o’ the Sky.