SONG.
Reading edition
The wreath you wove, the wreath you wove, Is fair—but oh, how fair, If Pity's hand had stolen from Love One leaf, to mingle there!
If every rose with gold were tied, Did gems for dewdrops fall, One faded leaf where Love had sighed Were sweetly worth them all.
The wreath you wove,—the wreath you wove Our emblem well may be; Its bloom is yours, but hopeless Love Must keep its tears for me.