Thomas Hardy - The Master and the Leaves lyrics

I We are budding, Master, budding,   We of your favourite tree; March drought and April flooding   Arouse us merrily, Our stemlets newly studding;   And yet you do not see! II  We are fully woven for summer In stuff of limpest green, The twitterer and the hummer   Here rest of nights, unseen, While like a long-roll drummer   The nightjar thrills the treen. III We are turning yellow, Master,   And next we are turning red, And faster then and faster   Shall seek our rooty bed, All wasted in disaster!   But you lift not your head. IV - “I mark your early going,   And that you'll soon be clay, I have seen your summer showing   As in my youthful day; But why I seem unknowing   Is too sunk in to say!”