Classic Poem

O FAR and well my gentleness
Has walked among your coverts green,
With your still wisdom to possess
My weary brain and gather in
My thought from madness, as the bells
Do beggared flocks from stormy fells.

Now mute and careful shall I live
Your constant alien to be?
Or, as the honest fugitive,
Lend love but sad security?
O love, be brave, and bid me go
In freedom still your bondfellow.