He went, and came—
And thought, and slept, and still awoke the same—
A strange, strange youth; and he would look all night
Upon the moon and stars, and count the flight
Of the sea waves, and let the evening wind
Play with his raven tresses, or would bind
Grottos of birch, wherein to sit and sing;
And peasant girls would find him sauntering,
To gaze upon their features, as they met,
In laughter, under some green arboret.