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A Shropshire Lad
Bring baskets now, and sally
Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
Upon the spring's array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
❦
XXX
Others, I am not the first,
Have willed more mischief than they durst:
If in the breathless night I too
Shiver now, 't is nothing new.
Have willed more mischief than they durst:
If in the breathless night I too
Shiver now, 't is nothing new.
More than I, if truth were told,
Have stood and sweated hot and cold,
And through their reins in ice and fire
Fear contended with desire.
Have stood and sweated hot and cold,
And through their reins in ice and fire
Fear contended with desire.
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