I mused, “green-girt, and silver-tipped”;
And, dreaming of their bells of snow,
At eve adown the rocks I tripped.
Sudden I saw thee!—saw thee take
Toward me thy path! I turned, and fled:
So swiftly pushed I through the brake
My girdle dropped:—still on I sped.
Had I but guessed that past the dates
That hour the stranger youth made way,
I ne'er had left my maiden mates