"A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine, fair maid! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine. A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green -- No more of me you knew, My love! No more of me you knew, "This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain; But she shall bloom in winter snow Ere we two meet again." He turned his charger as he spake Upon the river shore, He gave the bridle-reins a shake, Said, "Adieu for evermore, My love! And adieu for evermore." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES WRITTEN AT THE GRAVE OF ALEXANDER DUMAS by GWENDOLYN B. BENNETT A LITTLE CHILD'S HYMN; FOR NIGHT AND MORNING by FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE THE HOUSE ON THE HILL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE WHITE SHIP by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 22. THE CELESTIAL SURGEON by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON A TOMB BY THE SEA by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS BLOUDIE JACKE OF SHREWSBERRIE; THE SHROPSHIRE BLUEBEARD by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |