Though them thou seest not.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Along the top of a wood has swum
Thy coracle across ridges,
There is a wood of beautiful fruit
Under the prow of thy little skiff.
“A wood with blossom and fruit,
On which is the vine’s veritable fragrance;
A wood without decay, without defect,
On which are leaves of a golden hue.”