One day I would be glad
And with all quiet be
Except your cadenced murmur
Beside the willow-tree.
One day I would be glad
With fields of king-cup gold:
One day of dancing water
Below the cuckoo-fold.
One day I would be glad
With crowned vermilion kings
Whose scarves are lilies blowing
Where youth for ever sings.
One day I would be glad
With Oxford's poplared grace:
One day with love between us
And then--to lose your face.
_E. R. DODDS_
(_UNIVERSITY_)