"O go you by the firwoods blue?
And by the Fairies' Trysting Tree?"
"No, for the path is grown with rue
And nightshade's purple fruit, since you
Walked there with me!"
"O go you by the pastures high—
A grassy road and daisies fair?"
"No, for I saw them fade and die
On the bright evening, love, that I
Sat with you there."