Thro’ the pleached alley in my garden of the Spring
Merry leaves tossed over me with elfish whispering.
I was not alone, alone, for Love with blowing hair
Touched my hands and touched my heart, dancing everywhere.
Darting round about my steps, as a swallow slips,
How she laughed and laughed at me, with little rosy lips,
Ghostly wise she kissed my eyes, her mouth was chill as snow,
For she had died, my Love had died, so very long ago.