X.

Dear, I heard thee in the spring, Thee and Robert--through the trees,-- When we all went gathering Boughs of May-bloom for the bees. Do not start so! think instead How the sunshine overhead Seemed to trickle through the shade.

What a day it was, that day! Hills and vales did openly Seem to heave and throb away At the sight of the great sky: And the silence, as it stood In the glory's golden flood, Audibly did bud, and bud.