Iv

Into the woods they went again, Over the wind-blown oats; Out of the acres of golden grain, In where the light was a violet stain, In where the lilies’ throats Were brimmed with the summer rain.

Hung on a bough a reaper’s hook, Over the wind-blown oats; A girl’s glad laugh and a girl’s glad look, And the hush and ripple of tree and brook, And a wild bird’s silvery notes, And a kiss that a strong man took.

Out of the woods the lovers went, Over the wind-waved wheat; She with a face, where love was blent, Like to an open testament; He, from his head to feet, Dazed with his hope that was eloquent.

Here how oft had they come to tryst, Over the wind-waved wheat! Here how oft had they laughed and kissed! Talked and tarried where no one wist, Here where the woods are sweet, Dim and deep as a dewy mist.