I Had Withdrawn In Forest, And My Song Was Swallowed Up In Leaves That Blew Alway; And To The Forest Edge You Came One Day (This Was My Dream) And Looked And Pondered Long, But Did Not Enter, Though The Wish Was Strong: You Shook Your Pensive Head As Who Should Say, 'I Dare Not, To Far In His Footsteps Stray- He Must Seek Me Would He Undo The Wrong.' Not Far, But Near, I Stood And Saw It All Behind Low Boughs The Trees Let Down Outside; And The Sweet Pang It Cost Me Not To Call And Tell You That I Saw Does Still Abide. But 'Tis Not True That Thus I Dwelt Aloof, For The Wood Wakes, And You Are Here For Proof.