In years defaced and lost,

   Two sat here, transport-tossed,

   Lit by a living love

The wilted world knew nothing of:

      Scared momently

      By gaingivings,

      Then hoping things

      That could not be.

   Of love and us no trace

   Abides upon the place;

   The sun and shadows wheel,

Season and season sereward steal;

      Foul days and fair

      Here, too, prevail,

      And gust and gale

      As everywhere.

   But lonely shepherd souls

   Who bask amid these knolls

   May catch a faery sound

On sleepy noontides from the ground:

      “O not again

      Till Earth outwears

      Shall love like theirs

      Suffuse this glen!”