The Ragged Wood
|
O hurry where by water among the trees The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh， When they have but looked upon their images— Would none had ever loved but you and I！ Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky， When the sun looked out of his golden hood？— O that none ever loved but you and I！ O hurry to the ragged wood， for there I will drive all those lovers out and cry— O my share of the world， O yellow hair！ No one has ever loved but you and I. |
