A Pastoral

My love and I among the mountains strayed
When heaven and earth in summer heat were still,
Aware anon that at our feet were laid
Within a sunny hollow of the hill
A long-haired shepherd-lover and a maid.

They saw nor heard us, who a space above,
With hands clasped close as hers were clasped in his,
Marked how the gentle golden sunlight strove
To play about their leaf-crowned curls, and kiss
Their burnished slender limbs, half-bared to his love.

But grave or pensive seemed the boy to grow,
For while upon the grass unfingered lay
The slim twin-pipes, he ever watched with slow
Dream-laden looks the ridge that far away
Surmounts the sleeping midsummer with snow.

These things we saw; moreover we could hear
The girl's soft voice of laughter, grown more bold
With the utter noonday silence, sweet and clear:
"Why dost thou think? By thinking one grows old;
Wouldst thou for all the world be old, my dear?"

Here my love turned to me, but her eyes told
Her thought with smiles before she spake a word;
And being quick their meaning to behold
I could not choose but echo what we heard:
"Sweet heart, wouldst thou for all the world be old?"