SONG
Reading edition
The end of true love is to sit and mourn; Heigh ho, the end of love! Under the shadow of the naked thorn, With his thin boughs above. The end of true love is to lie and weep; Heigh ho, to weep alone! On the cold bosom of the mountain steep, By a gray boulder stone. The end of true love is to fare forth far; Heigh ho, the empty ways! To the bare places where the great winds are. And there to spend his days. The end of true love is a sorry end; Heigh ho, the weary death! Marvel it is that everyman should tend Poor love which vanisheth. Love’s is a life not any leech may save; So, since he’s fair, And thou must full soon lay him in his grave, Be love thy care. 1917.