famous poem

o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
one sweetly solemn thought
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
and how could you dream of meeting
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
with the meek, brown eyes
i know not where
up from the meadows rich with corn
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
see, they return