Thomas Hardy (1840–1928). Wessex Poems and Other Verses. 1898.
6. Postponement
S
Dropt now and then from the bill of a bird,
Reached me on wind-wafts; and thus I heard,
Wearily waiting:—
But the passers eyed and twitted me,
And said: ‘How reckless a bird is he,
Cheerily mating!’
In lewth of leaves to throne her bride;
But alas! her love for me waned and died,
Wearily waiting.
Born to an evergreen nesting-tree,
None had eyed and twitted me,
Cheerily mating!”