She mentions historical bow-woods on my Kipling poetry till I infodump churchyard mold

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She mentions historical bow-woods on my Kipling poetry till I infodump churchyard mold
Oh, do not tell the priest our plight, For he would call it a sin, But we’ve been out in the woods all night, A-conjuring summer in!
Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight, Or he would call it a sin; But - we have been out in the woods all night, A-conjuring Summer in!
RUDYARD KIPLING, "TREE SONG"
XYLOURIS WHITE : TREE SONG
"And all across the hills we’d go, in search of what no one does know, except for you and I.”