Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/202



on a golden day, In the golden month of May, I gave my heart away—
 * Little birds were singing.

I culled my heart in truth, Wet with the dews of youth, For love to take, forsooth—
 * Little flowers were springing.

Love sweetly laughed at this, And between kiss and kiss Fled with my heart in his:
 * Winds warmly blowing.