Out of the window a sea of green trees   Lift their soft boughs like the arms of a dancer, They beckon and call me, "Come out in the sun!"   But I cannot answer. I am alone with Weakness and Pain,   Sick abed and June is going, I cannot keep her, she hurries by   With the silver-green of her garments blowing. Men and women pa** in the street   Glad of the shining sapphire weather, But we know more of it than they,   Pain and I together. They are the runners in the sun,   Breathless and blinded by the race, But we are watchers in the shade   Who speak with Wonder face to face.