Bring the buds of the hazel-copse, Where two lovers kissed at noon; Bring the crushed red wild-thyme tops Where they murmured under the moon....

The speaker’s imperative “Bring…” turns natural objects into charged relics: hazel buds and crushed wild thyme are not valued for themselves but for the lovers’ touch and the times of day that frame their intimacy (noon and moon). The imagery suggests a ritual of summoning memory—sensory tokens meant to re-create an emotional atmosphere. The contrast between delicate “buds” and “crushed” thyme also hints at how love both preserves and bruises experience, leaving fragrance and trace. Overall, the lines treat landscape as a repository of human feeling, where place and plant become mnemonic devices for desire and tenderness.