I

"Ye valleys, and ye waters vast, Who answer all that look on you With shadows of themselves, that last As long as they, and are as true-- Where hath he past?

"Oh woods, and heights of rugged stone, Oh weariness of sky above me, For ever must I pine and moan, With none to comfort, none to love me, Alone, alone?

"Thou bird, that hoverest at heaven's gate, Or cleavest limpid lines of air, Return--for thou hast one to care-- Return to thy dear mate.