Classic Poem

Well you remember where it was we met:
A cabin in a valley by a stream;
I can not think you could so soon forget—
That I alone remember and regret,
And dream.

I was a man of labor in the land
To which you came upon a holiday;
I was a man of labor, ax in hand,
And you a Summer pilgrim, laughing and
Away.

I loved the woodland ways no less than you.
Than you who spoke of them in rhapsodies—
Perhaps their greater beauties better knew
And deeper felt the music singing through
The trees.

I wonder if it always shall be so—
If you look laughing to that year again,
Recall a pleasant Summer with a glow,
While I remain, remember, only know