Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/248



the greenest growth of the Maytime, I rode where the woods were wet, Between the dawn and the daytime; The spring was glad that we met.

There was something the season wanted, Though the ways and the woods smelt sweet; The breath at your lips that panted, The pulse of the grass at your feet.

You came, and the sun came after, And the green grew golden above; And the flag-flowers lightened with laughter, And the meadow-sweet shook with love.

Your feet in the full-grown grasses Moved soft as a weak wind blows; You passed me as April passes, With face made out of a rose.