THE RAGGED WOOD
 
 O HURRY where by water among the trees
 The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh,
 When they have but looked upon their images –
 Would none had ever loved but you and I!
 Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed
 Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky,
 When the sun looked out of his golden hood? –
 O that none ever loved but you and I!
 O hurty to the ragged wood, for there
 I will drive all those lovers out and cry –
 O my share of the world, O yellow hair!
 No one has ever loved but you and I.