Clay Lies Still, But Blood's A Rover;

'tis Spring; Come Out To Ramble The Hilly Brakes Around, For Under Thorn And Bramble About The Hollow Ground The Primroses Are Found. And There's The Windflower Chilly With All The Winds At Play, And There's The Lenten Lily That Has Not Long To Stay And Dies On Easter Day.

All Knots That Lovers Tie Are Tied To Sever. Here Shall Your Sweetheart Lie, Untrue For Ever.

His Folly Has Not Fellow Beneath The Blue Of Day That Gives To Man Or Woman His Heart And Soul Away.

Because I Liked You Better Than Suits A Man To Say, It Irked You, And I Promised I'd Throw The Thought Away. To Put The World Between Us We Parted Stiff And Dry: 'farewell,' Said You, 'forget Me.' 'fare Well, I Will,' Said I. If E'er, Where Clover Whitens The Dead Man's Knoll, You Pass, And No Tall Flower To Meet You Starts In The Trefoiled Grass, Halt By The Headstone Shading The Heart You Have Not Stirred, And Say The Lad That Loved You Was One That Kept His Word.

Give Me A Land Of Boughs In Leaf A Land Of Trees That Stand; Where Trees Are Fallen There Is Grief; I Love No Leafless Land.