I Saw A Name Carved On A Tree "Julia"; A Simpler Name There Could Not Be Julia: But Seeing It I Seemed To See A Devon Garden, Pleasantly About A Parsonage, The Bee Made Drowsy-Sweet; Where Rosemary And Pink And Phlox And Peony Bowed Down To One Whom Herrick Made To Bloom In Poetry. A Moment There I Saw Her Stand, Julia; A Gillyflower In Her Hand, Julia: And Then, Kind-Faced And Big And Bland, As Raised By Some Magician'S Wand, Herrick Himself Passed By, Sun-Tanned, And Smiling; And The Quiet Land Seemed To Take On And Understand A Dream Long Dreamed, And For The Lives Of Two Some Gladness Planned. And Then I Seemed To Hear A Sigh, "Julia!" And Someone Softly Walking Nigh, Julia: The Leaves Shook; And A Butterfly Trailed Past; And Through The Sleepy Sky A Bird Flew, Crying Strange Its Cry Then Suddenly Before My Eye Two Lovers Strolled They Knew Not Why I Looked Amazed, But I Had Seen Old Ghosts Of Long Dead Loves Go By.