OVER the meadow and down the lane To the gate by the twisted thorn: Your feet should know each turn of the way You trod so many many a day, Before the old love was put out of its pain, Before the new love was born. Kiss her, hold her and fold her close, Tell her the old true tale: You ought to know each turn of the phrase, -- You learned them all in the poor old days Before the birth of the new red rose, Before the old rose grew pale. And do not fear I shall creep to-night To make a third at your tryst: My ghost, if it walked, would only wait To scare the others away from the gate Where you teach your new love the old delight, With the lips that your old love kissed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HOLIDAY by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE A GENTLE ECHO ON WOMAN (IN THE DORIC MANNER) by JONATHAN SWIFT |