Iii

He enters the woods. He sits down despondently:

Here where the day is dimmest, And silence company, Some might find sympathy For loss, or grief the grimmest, In each great-hearted tree-- Here where the day is dimmest-- But, ah, there ’s none for me!

In leaves might find communion, Returning sigh for sigh, For love the heavens deny; The love that yearns for union, Yet parts and knows not why.-- In leaves might find communion-- But, ah, not I, not I!

My eyes with tears are aching.-- Why has she written me? And will no longer see?-- My heart with grief is breaking, With grief that this should be.-- My eyes with tears are aching-- Why has she written me?