COME, sweet lass, This bonny weather, Let's together: Come sweet lass, Let's trip it on the grass, Everywhere, Poor Jockey seeks his dear, And, unless you appear, He sees no beauty here. On our green, The loons are sporting, Piping, courting; On our green The blithest lads are seen: There all day Our lassies dance and play, And everyone is gay, But I, when you're away. There is none That can delight me, If you slight me, All alone, I ever make my moan: Life's a pain, Since by your coy disdain, Like an unhappy swain, I sigh and weep, in vain. I could be Right blithe and jolly; Melancholy Ne'er should be My fatal destiny, If I might But have my love in sight, Whose angel beauty bright Was ever my delight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 24 by JAMES JOYCE VILLA PAULINE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD LETTER TO MAXINE SULLIVAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH A PECK OF GOLD by ROBERT FROST VERY EARLY SPRING by KATHERINE MANSFIELD BONNYBELL: THE BUTTERFLY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |