No more walks in the wood:
The trees have all been cut
Down, and where once they stood
Not even a wagon rut
Appears along the path
Low brush is taking over.
No more walks in the wood;
This is the aftermath
Of afternoons in the clover
Fields where we once made love
Then wandered home together
Where the trees arched above,
Where we made our own weather
As a poet writing “an old-fashioned song” in the twentieth century, Hollander gets to have it both ways here: he might mean “making love” in its more innocent, old-fashioned sense (wooing, flirting), or he might mean sex in the great outdoors. The phrase “fields of play,” later on, is similarly ambiguous. 

An Old-Fashioned Song