But blossoms to berries do come,
All hanging on stalks light and slender,
And one long summer’s day charmed that lady away
With vows sweet and merry and tender,
A lover with voice low and tender.
Moss and lichen the green branches deck,
Weeds nod in its paths green and shady;
Yet a light footstep seems there to wander in dreams,
The ghost of that beautiful lady—
That happy and beautiful lady.