Classic Poem

I

Under the lime-tree, on the daisied ground,
Two that I know of made their bed;
There you may see, heaped and scattered round,
Grass and blossoms, broken and shed,
All in a thicket down in the dale;
Tandaradei —
Sweetly sang the nightingale.

II

Ere I set foot in the meadow, already
Some one was waiting for somebody;
There was a meeting — O gracious Lady!
There is no pleasure again for me.
Thousands of kisses there he took —
Tandaradei —
See my lips, how red they look!

III

Leaf and blossom he had pulled and piled
For a couch, a green one, soft and high;
And many a one hath gazed and smiled,
Passing the bower and pressed grass by;
And the roses crushed hath seen —
Tandaradei —
Where I laid my head between.

IV

In this love passage, if any one had been there,
How sad and shamed should I be!
But what were we a-doing alone among the green there,
No soul shall ever know except my love and me,
And the little nightingale. —
Tandaradei —
She, I think, will tell no tale.