"Birds in the high hall garden"
di Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)

Birds in the high hall garden
When twilight was falling,
Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud,
They were crying and calling.
Where was Maud? in our wood;
And I who else? was with her,
Gathering woodland lilies,
Myriads blow together.
Birds in our wood sang,
Ringing thro' the valleys,
Maud is here, here, here
In among the lilies.
I kiss'd her slender hand,
She took the kiss sedately;
Maud is not seventeen,
But she is tall and stately.
I know the way she went
Home with her maiden posy,
For her feet have touch'd the meadows
And left the daisies rosy.