Our words, our looks, our tender dalliance, all,
Like birds of passage at the swallow’s call,
Came trooping back, on light wings fluttering,
And through me swept the quickening breath of spring.
Seen through the shimmering aspen leaves afar
A fair face twinkled on me like a star,
And rustle of bright garments drawing nigh
Fluttered my heart with strange expectancy.
* * * * *
And soon two happy lovers wandered far,