In the gleaming gloaming I did once walk,

And on still paths tread until Love, he spoke:

What care you give the furrows in your mind,

For they carry your woe to bind, entwine.

And though I heard I did not care to heed,

I chose the caress of the feeblest tree.

I climbed the boughs and bifurcations swift,

Until no root for root; no tree for tree.

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