Poems (Hardy)/Triolet

by Irenè Hardy

TRIOLET

SING low, thou bird of lingering note,
 She comes along the poplar lane;
A white cloud 's in the sky afloat,
 (Sing low, thou bird of lingering note,)
Above us both, yet less remote
 Than she from me, a soul profane.
Sing low, thou bird of lingering note,
 She comes along the poplar lane.