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THE RIDE |
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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
508
THE RIDE
“Why ride you here, why ride you there,
Why ride you here so merry?
The sunlight living in your hair,
And in your cheek the berry?
Why ride you here so merry?
The sunlight living in your hair,
And in your cheek the berry?
“Why ride you with your sea-green plumes,
Your sea-green silken habit,
By balmy bosks of faint perfumes,
And haunts of roe and rabbit?”
Your sea-green silken habit,
By balmy bosks of faint perfumes,
And haunts of roe and rabbit?”
“The morning ploughed the east with gold,
And planted it with holly;
And I was young and he was old,
And rich, and melancholy.
And planted it with holly;
And I was young and he was old,
And rich, and melancholy.
“A wife they 'd have me to his bed,
And to the church they hurried;
But now, gramercy! he is dead!
Thank God! is dead and buried.
And to the church they hurried;
But now, gramercy! he is dead!
Thank God! is dead and buried.
“I ride by tree, I ride by rill,
I ride by rye and clover,
For by the church beyond the hill
Awaits my first true lover.”
I ride by rye and clover,
For by the church beyond the hill
Awaits my first true lover.”
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |