University of Virginia Library

VI.

[Thou needst not pitch upon my hat]

Thou needst not pitch upon my hat,
Thou wither'd leaf! to show how near
Is now the winter of my year;
Alas! I want no hint of that.
Prythee, ah prythee get along!
Whisper as gently in the ear,
I once could whisper in, to fear
No change, but live for dance and song.