Page:Foliage, various poems.djvu/58

 That have their hearts in rags, and die

Before that poor wretch they pass by.

Nay, I have found a life so fine

That every moment seems divine;

By shunning all those pleasures full,

That bring repentance cold and dull.

Such misery seen in days gone by,

That, made a coward, now I fly

To green things, like a bird. Alas!

In days gone by I could not pass

Ten men but what the eyes of one

Would burn me for no kindness done;

And wretched women I passed by

Sent after me a moan or sigh.

Ah, wretched days: for in that place

My soul's leaves sought the human face,

And not the Sun's for warmth and light—

And so was never free from blight.

But seek me now, and you will find

Me on some soft green bank reclined;

Watching the stately deer close by,

That in a great deep hollow lie

Shaking their tails with all the ease

That lambs can. First, look for the trees,

Then, if you seek me, find me quick.

Seek me no more where men are thick,

But in green lanes where I can walk