Classic Poem

I shall remember many nights,
Of hill and wind and sky;
I shall remember how we stood
In a starry-hearted solitude,
Or crossed the untamed, moon-wise wood,
Putting thorn-fingers by;

And other nights of near, sweet ways
Shall stay with me — but last
This one — we came, day-worn and slow,
Into the hedge-rimmed path we know,
And saw the window-candle glow,
Will-o'-the-wisp chained fast.