His vows were so tender, his speech was so fluent,
He whispered his sorrow if ever we must part.
My heart in my bosom fluttered and played truant,
So I gave it him all ... my innocent heart.
On a green bank amidst the purple irises,
And the shadow of a pine-wood across it was flung,
I gave him soft words, I gave him my kisses,
I gave him myself—myself that was so young.
On a day, long ago, (pity to remember
How the wind was soft, how the sun was warm,)—