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Rh For thy courtesy I thank thee.—But, ah, tell me why Thou didst not journey speedily Back with her answer?—art thou dumb, Or is the trysting time not come?

With many a kind and courteous word, The gentle lady charged thy bird; And long ago on woodland boughs Had I delivered all her vows, But that (before I could return) The earth grew naked, wild and stern, With wintry darkness—tempests white, And the keen wind’s terrific spite, That put me with the leaf to flight!

This argues well thy wondrous care, Prude of the leaf!

Sage poet, hear! The woodcock promised me to bear The lady’s message to thy ear— The woodcock, guest with ruddy hair— When he should come with thee to dwell, And with him bring the icicle!

When did he promise to be here?

At Christmas he was to appear!