ROBERT HERRICK

��267. To the Willow-tree

""THOU art to all lost love the best,

• The only true plant found,

Wherewith young men and maids distrest, And left of love, are crown'd.

When once the lover's rose is dead,

Or laid aside forlorn : Then willow-garlands 'bout the head

Bedew'd with tears are worn.

When with neglect, the lovers' bane,

Poor maids rewarded be For their love lost, their only gain

Is but a wreath from thee.

And underneath thy cooling shade,

When weary of the light, The love-spent youth and love-sick maid

Come to weep out the night.

��268. The Mad Maid's Song

OOD-MORROW to the day so fair,

Good-morning, sir, to you ; Good-morrow to mine own torn hair Bedabbled with the dew.

Good-morning to this primrose too,

Good-morrow to each maid That will with flowers the tomb bestrew

Wherein my love is laid.

�� �