Tuned to the footfall of a walk.
Her voice was very full and rich,
And, when at length she asked him 'Which?'
It mounted to its highest pitch.
He a bewildered answer gave,
Drowned in the sullen moaning wave,
Lost in the echoes of the cave.
He answered her he knew not what:
Like shaft from bow at random shot:
He spoke, but she regarded not.