SONG
[I saw her crop a rose]
1
I saw her crop a rose
Right early in the day
And I went to kiss the place
Where she broke the rose away
And I saw the patten rings
Where she o'er the stile had gone
And I love all other things
Her bright eyes look upon
If she looks upon the hedge, or up the leafing tree
That white thorn and the brown oak are the dearest things to me
2
I have a pleasant hill
Which I sit upon for hours
Where she cropt some sprigs of thyme
And other little flowers
And she muttered as she did it
As does beauty in a dream
And I loved her when she hid it
On her breast so like to cream
Near the brown mole on her neck—that like a diamond shone
Then my eye was like to fire—but my heart was like a stone
3
There is a small green place
Where cowslips early curled
Which on sabbath days I trace
The dearest in the world
A little oak spreads o'er it
And throws a shadow round
A green-sward close before it
The greenest ever found
There is not a woodland nigh, nor is there a green grove
Yet there the maid stood nigh me and told me all her love
