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Poem	I had withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and looked and pondered long, But did not enter, though the wish was strong: you shook your pensive head as who should say, 'I dare not--to far in his footsteps stray- He must seek me would he undo the wrong.' Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all behind low boughs the trees let down outside; And the sweet pang it cost me not to call And tell you that I saw does still abide. But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof, For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.
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