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Edith Nesbit - Vies Manquees
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A YEAR ago we walked the wood-- 
        A year ago to-day; 
A blackbird fluttered round her brood 
        Deep in the white-flowered may. 


We trod the happy woodland ways, 
        Where sunset streamed between 
The hazel stems in long dusk rays, 
        And turned to gold the green. 


A thrush sang where the ferns uncurled, 
        And clouds of wind-flowers grew: 
I missed the meaning of the world 
        From lack of love for you. 


You missed the beauty of the year, 
        And failed its self to see, 
Through too much doubt and too much fear, 
        And too much love of me. 


This year we hear the birds` glad strain, 
        Again the sunset glows, 
We walk the wild wet woods again, 
        Again the wind-flower blows. 


In cloudy white the falling may 
        Drifts down the scented wind, 
And so the secret drifts away 
        Which we shall never find. 


Our drifted spirits are not free 
        Spring`s secret springs to touch, 
For now you do not care for me, 
        And I love you too much.
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