Classic Poem

The turbid stream flows swift and strong,
To pour its volume in the sea;
And by its side I stroll along:
But what is that to you and me?

From long lush grass the corncrake calls;
I watch but fail its form to see:
Its harsh note on my memory falls:
But what is that to you and me;

In hidden groves the sweet birds sing —
A year ago, down o'er the lea,
I mind me how the church bells rang:
But what is that to you and me?

We sauntered happy, side by side;
I spoke of love, and you were free;
You would be mine, whate'er betide:
But what is that to you and me?

The corncrake calls again once more,
As then I heard it; can it be
That there shall ring, for all is o'er,
No marriage bells for you and me?