Fair Trees, O Keep From Chattering So When I With My More Fair Do Go Beneath Your Branches; For If I Laugh With Her Your Sigh Her Rare And Sudden Mirth Puts By, Or Your Too Noisy Glee Will Take Persuasion From My Lips And Make Her Deaf As Winter. O Be Not As The Pines--That Keep The Shadow-Charm'D Light Asleep-- Perverse And Sombre! For When We In The Pinewood Walked And Of Young Love And Far Age Talked, Their Solemn Haunted Shadow Broke Her Peace--Ah, How The Sharp Sob Shook Her Shadowed Bosom!