mrgart re you greving over goldengrove unleaving leves lke the things of man you with your fresh thoughts care for can you h s the heart grows older it will come to such sights colder by and by nor spare a sigh though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie and yet you wll weep and know why now no matter child the name srrows sprngs re the same nor mouth had no nor mind expressed what heart heard of ghost guessed it s the blight man was born for it is margaret you mourn for