For Even in Sadness There is Possibility.

A Dream Pang by: Robert Frost

I had withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew away; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and looked and pondered long, But did not enter, though the wish was strong: You shook your pensive head as who should say, 'I dare not--too far in his footsteps stray-- He must seek me would he undo the wrong. Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all Behind low boughs the trees let down outside; And the sweet pang it cost me not to call And tell you that I saw does still abide. But 'tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof, For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.