A gentle wife, but fairy none.
When I said, “I covet truth;
Beauty is unripe childhood’s cheat;
I leave it behind with the games of youth.”
As I spoke, beneath my feet
The ground pine curled its pretty leaf,
Running over the club-moss burrs;
I inhaled the violet’s breath;
Around me stood the oaks and firs,
Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground.