Oh come again to Astolat!

I will not ask you to be kind.

And you may go when you will go

And I will stay behind.

I will not say how dear you are

Or ask you if you hold me dear

Or trouble you with things for you

The way I did last year.

So still the orchard Lancelot

So very still the lake shall be

You could not guess—though you should guess—

What is become of me.

So wide shall be the garden-walk

The garden-seat so very wide

You needs must think—if you should think—

The lily maid had died.

Save that a little way away

I’d watch you for a little while

To see you speak the way you speak

And smile—if you should smile.