XII.
Through the winding hedgerows green, How we wandered, I and you, With the bowery tops shut in, And the gates that showed the view! How we talked there; thrushes soft Sang our praises out, or oft Bleatings took them from the croft:
Through the winding hedgerows green, How we wandered, I and you, With the bowery tops shut in, And the gates that showed the view! How we talked there; thrushes soft Sang our praises out, or oft Bleatings took them from the croft: