I take to heart when days will part,
and all the years are wanted yet-
everything is firmament,
and everything is heart to heart.
I walk upon the dewy shore,
and hearten'd at the tides of yore,
when nothing is once as it was before,
the light is light and billowing.
Some people go and then they come,
and wars are fought and then are won,
everything is just like morn,
rosy like the bosom's corn.
The Duke has gone outside his door,
to see the forgotten shores of yore,
and here where the Poet has kept,
his lover is gone and has wept.
Read thy lovely burrowing,
and the snow has become begone in spring-
the flowers are moving and they sing,
tears are shed and hearts will sting.