In the green hush of the wood
A bubble of bird-song broke,
And at the magic word
The wind from trance awoke.
A wild-rose leaned to a bluet,
A blithe brook-ripple spoke;
Then came a leafy laughter
From willow and ash and oak.

Gaily it ran; then willow
And ash and oak forgot.
They had but overheard
Some wood-sprite's amorous plot.
The rose went back to her bliss,
The wind sighed, and was not.
Silence again was the bird's
And the brook's ecstatic lot.