We shall go no more to the woods, the laurels are felled. The Naiads enclustered, the Cupid-scroll, See the sunlight glisten in crystals held By the silent waves pouring from their bowl. The laurels are felled, and the lonely stag at bay Trembles to hear the horn; we shall go no more to the woods Where charming children laughed their lustihoods Under the eyes of lilies the tears of the sky had swelled. This was the laurel they cut, this the grass that lay. We shall go no more to the woods, the laurels are felled. |