I
I wot well o’ his going
To think in flowers fair;–
His a right kind heart, my dear,
To give the grass such hair.
II.
I wot well o’ his lying
Such nights out in the cold,–
To list the cricket’s crick, my sweet,
To see the glow-worm’s gold.
III.
An mine eyes be laughterful,
Well may they laugh, I trow,–
Since two dead eyes a yesternight
Gazed in them sad enow.
IV.
An my heart make moan and ache,
Well may it dree, I’m sure;–
He is dead and gone, my love,
And it is beggar poor.
(Madison Julius Cawein)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Fairness Poems, Flowers Poems, Gold Poems, Hair Poems, Laughter PoemsBased on Keywords: crick