I would declare what I must now conceal
Though you, demure and prudently discreet,
May well have sensed the way I came to feel
Who, disavowing love, employed deceit.
With me, do play romantic hide and seek,
And I shall hide where spring-kissed willows grow,
Where you, yet coy and cautious, Love, may peek,
And, peeking, find what you, inferring, know.
There, there, my Love, in nature's virgin wood,
Do find me hiding should you dare or will,
And make implicit promises prove good
Beyond the verdant knoll or distant hill.
But, should you, fearing, heed not nature's call,
When trees prove bare, seek me, I pray, in fall.