"De Gustibus--"

Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees, (If our loves remain) In an English lane, By a cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies. Hark, those two in the hazel coppice-- A boy and a girl, if the good fates please, Making love, say,-- The happier they! Draw yourself up from the light of the moon. And let them pass, as they will too soon, With the beanflower's boon, And the blackbird's tune, And May, and June!…