woods?
Why art thou gone who made all the leaves tremulous with
the low voice of love?
Love that tarried yet afar, though the fleet swallow had
come back to us—
Love that stayed in the far lands though the primrose had
cast its gold by the streams—
Love that heard not the voice sent forth from every new-budded briar—
This love came only when thou earnest, and rapture thrilled
the heart of the green land.