I said, “Young Love will flee with May,
And leave forlorn the hearth he blest”;
I did not dream that Love would stay.
My envious neighbor mocks me “Nay,
Love lies not long in any nest”;
Yet here he lingers many a day.
And though I did his will alway,
And gave him even of my best;
I did not dream that Love would stay.
I have no skill to bid him stay,