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Rh

I had past years where the green wood Makes twilight of the noon, And I had watch'd the silver flood Kiss'd by the rising moon; And gazed upon the clear midnight In all its luxury of light.

And, thrown where the blue violets dwell, I would pass hours away, Musing o'er some old chronicle Fill'd with a wild love lay; Till beauty seem'd to me a thing Made for all nature's worshipping.

I saw thee, and the air grew bright In thy clear eyes' sunshine;