Long ago and long ago.
When Meggan plucked the thorny rose, and when May pulled the brier,
Half the birds would swoop to see, half the beasts draw nigher;
Half the fishes of the stream would dart up to admire:
But when Margaret plucked a flag-flower, or poppy, hot aflame,
All the beasts and all the birds and all the fishes came
To her hand more soft than snow.
Strawberry leaves and May-dew in brisk morning air,
Strawberry leaves and May-dew make maidens fair.
“I go for strawberry leaves,” Meggan said one day: