Song
I peeled bits o straws and I got switches too
From the grey peeling Willow as Idlers do
And I switched at the flyes as I sat all alone
Till my flesh blood & marrow wasted to dry bone
My illness was love though I knew not the smart
But the beauty o love was the blood o my heart
Crowded places I shunned them as noises to[o] rude
And flew to the silence of sweet solitude
Where the flower in green darkness, buds, blossoms & fades
Unseen of a shepherds & flower loving maids
The hermit bees find them but once & away
From the grey peeling Willow as Idlers do
And I switched at the flyes as I sat all alone
Till my flesh blood & marrow wasted to dry bone
My illness was love though I knew not the smart
But the beauty o love was the blood o my heart
Crowded places I shunned them as noises to[o] rude
And flew to the silence of sweet solitude
Where the flower in green darkness, buds, blossoms & fades
Unseen of a shepherds & flower loving maids
The hermit bees find them but once & away