Small birds twitter and peck the weeds
   That wave above this bed
   Where my dear Love lies dead: 
They flutter and burst the globed seeds,
   And beat the downy pride
   Of dandelions, wide: 
From speargrass, bowed with watery beads,
   The wet uniting, drips
   In sparkles off the tips: 
In mallow bloom the wild bee drops and feeds.

No more she hears, where vines adorn
   Her window, on the boughs
   Birds chirrup an arouse: 
Flies, buzzing, strengthening with the morn,
   She will not hear again
   At random strike the pane: 
No more against the newly shorn
   Grass edges will her gown
   In playful waves be thrown,
As she walks forth to view what flowers are born.

Nor ponder more those dark green rings
   Stained quaintly on the lea,
   To picture elfin glee;
While through the grass a faint air sings,
   And swarms of insects revel
   Along the sultry level: 
No more will watch their brilliant wings,
   Now lightly dip, now soar,
   Then sink, and rise once more. 
My Lady’s death makes dear these trivial things.

One noon, within an oak’s broad shade,
   Lost in delightful talk,
   We rested from our walk. 
Beyond the shadow, large and staid,
   Cows chewed with drowsy eye
   Their cud complacently: 
Elegant deer walked o’er the glade,
   Or stood with wide bright eyes
   Gazing a short surprise;
And up the fern slope nimble conies played.

As rooks cawed labouring through the heat;
   Each wing-flap seemed to make
   Their weary bodies ache;
And swallows, though so wildly fleet,
   Made breathless pauses there
   At something in the air. 
All disappeared:  our pulses beat
   Distincter throbs, and each
   Turned and kissed without speech,
She trembling from her mouth down to her feet.

Then, as I felt her bosom heave,
   And listened to the din
   Of joyous life within,
Could I but in my heaven believe,
   Assured by that repose
   Within my heart, and those
Warm arms around my neck!  While eve
   In shadowy silence came
   And quenched the Western flame,
That lingered round her as if loth to leave.

Then told I in a whispered tone
   Of that approaching time,
   When merry peal and chime
Of marriage ringing should make known,
   In crashes through the air
   Exultingly we were
By solemn rite each other’s own: 
   And she, confiding, meek,
   Against mine pressed her cheek,
And gave response in happy tears alone.

No heed of time took we, because
   Those clanging bells had quite
   Absorbed us in delight. 
A happiness so perfect awes
   The failing pulse and breath,
   Like the mute doom of death: 
Then, in an instantaneous pause
   Flashed on my vacant eye
   A swift Eternity;
And starting, as if clutched by demon-claws,