Page:Foliage, various poems.djvu/55



summer, when the Cuckoo sings,

And clouds like greater moons can shine;

When every leafy tree doth hold

A loving heart that beats with mine:

Now, when the Brook has cresses green,

As well as stones, to check his pace;

And, if the Owl appears, he's forced

By small birds to some hiding-place:

Then, like red Robin in the spring,

I shun those haunts where men are found;

My house holds little joy until

Leaves fall and birds can make no sound;

Let none invade that wilderness

Into whose dark green depths I go—

Save some fine lady, all in white,

Comes like a pillar of pure snow.