With interlacèd branches mix and meet,
Or where with sound like many voices sweet,
Water-falls leap among wild islands green, 15
Which framed for my lone boat a lone retreat
Of moss-grown trees and weeds, shall I be seen:
But beside thee, where still my heart has ever been.
Thoughts of great deeds were mine, dear Friend, when first
The clouds which wrap this world from youth did pass.
I do remember well the hour which burst 21
My spirit’s sleep: a fresh May-dawn it was,