THE LOVER
Reading edition
I go through wet spring woods alone, Through sweet green woods with heart of stone, My weary foot upon the grass Falls heavy as I pass. The cuckoo from the distance cries, The lark a pilgrim in the skies; But all the pleasant spring is drear. I want you, dear!
I pass the summer meadows by, The autumn poppies bloom and die; I speak alone so bitterly For no voice answers me. “O lovers parting by the gate, O robin singing to your mate, Plead you well, for she will hear ‘I love you, dear!’”
I crouch alone, unsatisfied, Mourning by winter’s fireside. O Fate, what evil wind you blow. Must this be so? No southern breezes come to bless, So conscious of their emptiness My lonely arms I spread in woe, I want you so.