Once to that cottage door,
    In happy days of yore,
My little love made footprints in the snow. 
    She was so glad of spring,
    She helped the birds to sing,
I know she dwells there yet—­the rest I do not know.

    They sang, and would not stop,
    While drop, and drop, and drop,
I heard the melted rime in sunshine fall;
    And narrow wandering rills,
    Where leaned the daffodils,
Murmured and murmured on, and that was all.

    I think, but cannot tell,
    I think she loved me well,
And some dear fancy with my future twined. 
    But I shall never know,
    Hope faints, and lets it go,
That passionate want forbid to speak its mind.

DEFTON WOOD.

I held my way through Defton Wood,
  And on to Wandor Hall;
The dancing leaf let down the light,
  In hovering spots to fall. 
“O young, young leaves, you match me well,”
  My heart was merry, and sung—­
“Now wish me joy of my sweet youth;
  My love—­she, too, is young! 
    O so many, many, many
      Little homes above my head! 
    O so many, many, many
      Dancing blossoms round me spread! 
    O so many, many, many
      Maidens sighing yet for none! 
    Speed, ye wooers, speed with any—­
      Speed with all but one.”

I took my leave of Wandor Hall,
  And trod the woodland ways. 
“What shall I do so long to bear
  The burden of my days?”
I sighed my heart into the boughs
  Whereby the culvers cooed;
For only I between them went
  Unwooing and unwooed. 
    “O so many, many, many
      Lilies bending stately heads! 
    O so many, many, many
      Strawberries ripened on their beds! 
    O so many, many, many
      Maids, and yet my heart undone! 
    What to me are all, are any—­
      I have lost my—­one.”

THE LONG WHITE SEAM.

As I came round the harbor buoy,
  The lights began to gleam,
No wave the land-locked water stirred,
  The crags were white as cream;
And I marked my love by candle-light
  Sewing her long white seam. 
    It’s aye sewing ashore, my dear,
      Watch and steer at sea,
    It’s reef and furl, and haul the line,
      Set sail and think of thee.

I climbed to reach her cottage door;
  O sweetly my love sings! 
Like a shaft of light her voice breaks forth,
  My soul to meet it springs
As the shining water leaped of old,
  When stirred by angel wings. 
    Aye longing to list anew,
      Awake and in my dream,
    But never a song she sang like this,
      Sewing her long white seam.