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.