Classic Poem

" The Gourd now sprouts its bitter blade:
The ford is now too deep to wade! " She:

" Where it is deep, there are stepping stones,
Where it is shallow just raise your clothes! " He:

" But see how the raging waters fall,
And hark to the pheasant's grating call! " She:

" Carts could still cross with their axles dry!
That was the pheasant's mating cry.

Riverbirds mingle their voices now
As a new sun rises over the brow,

But he who would bring a bride to his bed
Should never wait till the frosts have fled!

Beckons and beckons the boatman aboard:
Let others cross but no, not I,
Let others cross but no, not I,
I shall await my love and lord! "