IN A WOOD

Hush,’ tis thy voice!

No, but a bird upon the bough

Romancing to its mate, but where art thou

To bid my heart rejoice?

’ Tis thy hand, speak!

No, but the branches striking in the wind

Let loose a withered leaf that falls behind

Blown to my cheek.

Hush, thy footfall!

No,’ tis a streamlet hidden in the fern,

Thus from dawn to dark I wait, I learn

Sorrow is all.