AS I walked forth one summer's day, To view the meadows sweet and gay, A pleasant bower I espied, Standing fast by a river side; And in't a maiden I heard cry, Alas, alas! there's none e'er loved as I. Then round the meadow did she walk, Catching each flower by the stalk, Such flowers as in the meadow grew, The dead man's thumb, an herb all blue: And, as she pulled them, still cried she, Alas, alas! none ever loved like me. The flowers of the sweetest scents She bound about with knotty bents: And, as she bound them up in bands, She wept, she sighed, and wrung her hands: Alas, alas, alas! cried she, Alas, alas! was none e'er lov'd like me. When she had filled her apron full Of such green things as she could cull, The green leaves served her for a bed, The flow'rs a pillow for her head: Then down she lay, ne'er more did speak: Alas, alas! with love her heart did break. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG: SO OFTEN, SO LONG I HAVE THOUGHT by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG:SO WHY DOES THIS DEAD CARNATION by HAYDEN CARRUTH IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES TO NANNETTE FALK-AUERBACH by SIDNEY LANIER ACROSS THE RED SKY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |