Classic Poem

A garden lodge, shut in with quaintest growth,
A slender girl with still kine pasturing near,
And bright look half-expectant—need I fear
Thus to recall that morning when we both
Rode on to the wide city, loud and drear?
Yes, in the shock and tumult hurrying here,
Let me remind thee of that place of peace:
The maiden's smile, the look of happy doubt.
Nor in the stream of things, do thou too fail
Still to remember me of more than these:—
The little valley hidden in the pine,
The low-built cottage buried in the vale,
Wooded and over-wooded, bushed about
With holm tree, ople tree, and sycamine.