The woods are black behind and before,
The sunshine lieth asleep on the floor,
      And the rose is just beginning
From the bush at the window all red to start,
And I say as I look on it, That is my heart !
For out on the grass by the open door
     My little love sits spinning.

All in the shade where the sloe-berries grow
Lieth a water sluggish and low,
      And the lily is just beginning
To open her white leaves hour by hour ; —
I am the sullen pond, she is the flower,
And my thoughts fall alway, pure as snow,
      Where my little love sits spinning.

The woods are black as black can be,
But through them shimmer spots o' the sea,
      And the tide is just beginning.
There lieth a shell on the sand apart,
And a wave is kissing her way to its heart,
And the shell is I, and the wave is she
      That sits at the door-side spinning