Page:Lyrical ballads, Volume 1, Wordsworth, 1800.djvu/123

71 There was a youth whom I had loved so long,

That when I loved him not I cannot say.

'Mid the green mountains many and many a song

We two had sung, like gladsome birds in May.

When we began to tire of childish play

We seemed still more and more to prize each other;

We talked of marriage and our marriage day;

And I in truth did love him like a brother,

For never could I hope to meet with such another.

His father said, that to a distant town

He must repair, to ply the artist's trade.

What tears of bitter grief till then unknown?

What tender vows our last sad kiss delayed!

To him we turned:—we had no other aid.

Like one revived, upon his neck I wept,

And her whom he had loved in joy, he said

He well could love in grief: his faith he kept;

And in a quiet home once more my father slept.