HE'd nothing but his violin, I'd nothing but my song, But we were wed when skies were blue And summer days were long; And when we rested by the hedge, The robins came and told How they had dared to woo and win, When early Spring was cold. We sometimes supped on dew-berries, Or slept among the hay, But oft the farmers' wives at eve Came out to hear us play; The rare old songs, the dear old tunes, -- We could not starve for long While my man had his violin, And I my sweet love-song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYERS by HENRY CHARLES BEECHING AT LULWORTH COVE A CENTURY BACK by THOMAS HARDY THE SHEPHERDESS by ALICE MEYNELL STORY OF THE GATE by HARRISON ROBERTSON SONNET: 110 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE EN TOUR; A SONG SEQUENCE: 5. THE EXILE by ALBERTA BANCROFT |