Come, sweet-heart, then, and we will stray 
     
     Adown that valley, lingering long, 
     
     Until the rose is wet with dew, 
     
     And robins come to evensong, 
     
    
   
   
    
     And woo each other, borrowing speech 
     
    

    
     Of love from winds and brooks and birds, 
     
     Until our sundered thoughts are one 
     
    

    
     And hearts have no more need of words. 
     
    
   
   
    
     72