 | Poems and Translations |  |
17
UNDER THE LINDENS.
Underneath the lindens' shade
Where the bees sweet music made,
In the idle June time hot,
Dora with her Damon lay:
Haply he his love might say,—
'Sooth he would and he would not.
Where the bees sweet music made,
In the idle June time hot,
Dora with her Damon lay:
Haply he his love might say,—
'Sooth he would and he would not.
Well he loved, but was afraid:
As they lay beneath the shade
('Twas all innocent I wot)
Dora's head against him leant;
Nothing else the maiden meant
But she would if he would not.
As they lay beneath the shade
('Twas all innocent I wot)
Dora's head against him leant;
Nothing else the maiden meant
But she would if he would not.
Underneath the lindens' shade,
While the bees their music made,
Simple love its measure got;
Fond looks, honey'd kisses—Well,
Something more might be to tell—
If I would,—but I would not.
While the bees their music made,
Simple love its measure got;
Fond looks, honey'd kisses—Well,
Something more might be to tell—
If I would,—but I would not.
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