Give me a land of boughs in leaf,
A land of trees that stand;
Where trees are fallen, there is grief;
I love no leafless land.
Alas, the country whence I fare,
It is where would stay;
And where I would not, it is there
That I shall be for aye.
And one remembers, and one forgets,
But ’tis not found again,
Not though they hale in crimsoned nets
The sunset from the main.