Whose woods these are I wish I knew
whose newborn scenes fill my eyes with wonder
and walk with me a while in waking dew
whose pools and shadows now cradle her
whose skies sleep on water’s smooth skin      blue  

and lying in these woods, how sweet she will be sleeping,
dreaming soft and slow in the arms of juniper and moss
far from her mazed fields and locust chaos
Oh, how well she will be fed by my weeping
and the scents of hive and wild berry                         seeping  

I could say these woods were meant for me
as they touched me with their sympathy
but who gave them and why, who could say
having walked nowhere like this way upon way
and happy now, her in these woods                here to stay  

day upon day, day upon remarkable day