First Known when Lost

I never had noticed it until'Twas gone, - the narrow

Where now the woodman

The last of the willows with his

It was not more than a hedge overgrown.

One meadow's breadth awayI passed it day by day.

Now the soil is bare as bone,

And black betwixt two meadows green,

Though fresh-cut fag got

Of hazel made some

With a gleam as if flowers they had been.

Strange it could have hidden so near!

And now I see as I

That the small winding brook,

A tributary's tributary, rises there.