First Known when Lost by Edward Thomas — Read

I never had noticed it until 'Twas gone -- the narrow copse Where now the woodman lops The last of the willows with his bill.

It was not more than a hedge overgrown.

One meadow's breadth away I passed it day by day.

Now the soil was bare as a bone, And black betwixt two meadows green, Though fresh-cut faggot ends Of hazel made some amends With a gleam as if flowers they had been.

Strange it could have hidden so near!

And now I see as I look That the small winding brook, A tributary's tributary, rises there.