As sincere as the Songs from Crickets,
And the pure Joy of a Clapping Tree.
Like that I would want to be without tickets
When I say, I love you, mean it and be free. ...
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say,
Though late it be, though lily-time be past,
Though all the summer skies be overcast,
Haply I will go down to her, some day,
And cast my rests of life before her feet,
That she may have her will of me, being so sweet
And none gainsay!