Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 3. 18. Song (The birds were singing, the skies were gay)

The birds were singing, the skies were gay;
     ⁠I looked from the window on meadow and wood,
⁠⁠          On green, green grass that the sun made white;
     ⁠Beyond the river the mountain stood—
⁠⁠          Blue was the mountain, the river was bright;
⁠     I looked on the land and it was not good,
For my own dear Love she had flown away.