The Ascent of Man/Poem 50
XIX.
Once on a golden day,
In the golden month of May,
I gave my heart away—
Little birds were singing.
I culled my heart in truth,
Wet with the dews of youth,
For love to take, forsooth—
Little flowers were springing.
Love sweetly laughed at this,
And between kiss and kiss
Fled with my heart in his:
Winds warmly blowing.
And with his sun and shower
Love kept my heart in flower,
As in the greenest bower
Rose richly glowing.
Till, worn at evensong,
Love dropped my heart among
Stones by the way ere long;
Misprizèd token.
There in the wind and rain,
Trampled and rent in twain,
Ne'er to be whole again,
My heart lies broken.