Indifference

She is so dear the wildflowers near Each path she passes by, Are over fain to kiss again Her feet and then to die.

She is so fair the wild birds there That sing upon the bough, Have learned the staff of her sweet laugh, And sing no other now.

Alas! that she should never see, Should never care to know, The wildflower’s love, the bird’s above, And his, who loves her so.