In the Garden at Swainston

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Nightingales warbled without,
  Within was weeping for thee:
Shadows of three dead men
  Walk'd in the walks with me,
  Shadows of three dead men and
   thou wast one of the three.

Nightingales sang in his woods:
  The Master was far away:
Nightingales warbled and sang
  Of a passion that lasts but a day;
  Still in the house in his coffin the
   Prince of courtesy lay.

Two dead men have I known
  In courtesy like to thee:
Two dead men have I loved
  With a love that ever will be:
  Three dead men have I loved, and
   thou art last of the three.