In the Pine-Woods. The summer wind is whisp’ring Among the green-topped pines, The summer sunlight shining Downward in golden lines, Between the long dark shadows, Across the dry, crisp ground ; And all the air is laden With summer scent and sound. But fairer than the sunlight That shines the long day through, And gayer than the lark’s song That comes from out the blue, And sweeter than the ling’s scent Borne upward on the breeze, Is the face of youth and maiden At their tryst among the trees. And he is looking downward, And she has raised her head— What do you think they came for ? What do you think they said ? The brown bees hum around them, The streamlet ripples on, The blackbirds sing unheeding, In piping antiphon. If they could speak they’d tell you ’Twas no strange mystic lore, In mighty words revealing Truths never heard before. Twas just the old, old story— Old, yet for ever new— I think he said, “ I love you !” I think she said so too. Alice Mullins .

Symmetrical foliate pattern contained within a double-ruled rectangular border. 1/32 page.