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| MY love and I among the mountains strayed | |
| When heaven and earth in summer heat were still, | |
| Aware anon that at our feet were laid | |
| Within a sunny hollow of the hill | |
| A long-haired shepherd-lover and a maid. | 5 |
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| They saw nor heard us, who a space above, | |
| With hands clasped close as here were clasped in his, | |
| Marked how the gentle golden sunlight strove | |
| To play about their leaf-crowned curls, and kiss | |
| Their burnished slender limbs, half-bared to his love. | 10 |
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| But grave or pensive seemed thy boy to grow, | |
| For while upon the grass unfingered lay | |
| The slim twin-pipes, he ever watched with slow | |
| Dream-laden looks the ridge that far away | |
| Surmounts the sleeping midsummer with snow. | 15 |
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| These things we saw; moreover we could hear | |
| The girl’s soft voice of laughter, grown more bold | |
| With the utter noonday silence, sweet and clear: | |
| “Why dost thou think? By thinking one grows old; | |
| Wouldst thou for all the world be old, my dear?” | 20 |
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| Here my love turned to me, but her eyes told | |
| Her thought with smiles before she spake a word; | |
| And being quick their meaning to behold | |
| I could not choose but echo what we heard: | |
| “Sweet heart, wouldst thou for all the world be old?” | 25 |
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