In silver sheen on vivid green
The sunlight on its leaves is seen,
An elfin tree for mortal een,-
The willow!
The spring wind stirs its lissome leaves
And my fond pagan heart it grieves
That no one now but me believes
In dryads!
Think what a sunny shimmering face,
What slender, swaying, vibrant grace,
In that green life it might embrace,-
The willow!