I SAY, 'She was as good as fair!' When standing by her mound; 'Such passing sweetness,' I declare, 'No longer treads the ground.' I say, 'What living Love can catch Her bloom and bonhomie, And what in recent maidens match Her olden warmth to me!' - There stands within yon vestry-nook Where bonded lovers sign, Her name upon a faded book With one that is not mine. To him she breathed the tender vow She once had breathed to me, But yet I say, 'O Love, even now Would I had died for thee!' |