This Severing

I turned as new resigned: A summer gleaned, my business was within, My charge the sober mind, My care the wintry bin. And found the boughs in stain, Past-promise-hued. O not Before, earnest as rich was yet so plain; A harvest was ungot. Beech drenching down my pathway goldenheart, Ash, pensive light-cheek rose, Both pluck the thought apart, And meant you, heart, to close? So fell the doomed farewells; So, so looked forth a thing: Regret, reproach, what else Must baffle, vex, beguile this severing