Pickthorn Manor: 43

Amy Lowell

Daily they met.  And gravely walked and talked.
 He read her no more verses, and he stayed
Only until their conversation, balked
 Of every natural channel, fled dismayed.
Again the next day she would meet him, trying
 To give her tone some healthy sprightliness,
    But his uneager dignity soon chilled
 Her well-prepared address.
Thus Summer waned, and in the mornings, crying
Of wild geese startled Eunice, and their flying
    Whirred overhead for days and never stilled.

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