Classic Poem

She dressed her well in her bodice brown
And well in her gown of gray.
" Off am I to my own love's town
A hundred miles away —
And will not tire by brough or brae
And will walk on the soft-floored sea:
For my love is his from day to day —
But, oh! does my love love me?

Has his strong arm a place for my head?
Will his strong hand feel my breast?
Fine soft linen and a bridal bed,
For that's what a girl loves best!

Word or warning not mine to send
Of the journey so soon to be:
Though my love is his to the world's end.
But, oh! does my love love me? "