It was a Sunday that I gave my love to you,
The Sunday before Easter Sunday exactly;
I myself on my knees a-reading the Passion,
My two eyes giving love to you ever after.
Oye, little mother, give myself to him,
And give him what is yours of goods entirely,
Out with yourself a-begging alms
And do not be going East and West seeking me.
My little mother said to me not to speak with you
To-day or to-morrow or on Sunday,
It is in the bad hour she gave me that choice,
It is "shutting the door after the theft."
And you passed me by, dark and late,
And you passed me by, and the light of the day in it;
If you would come in yourself and see me
Never a word at all would I have with you.[117]
FOOTNOTES:
[117] This last stanza is from Dr. Hyde's "Breed Astore" (Love Songs, p. 77), where the third stanza is also found.
[DEATH THE COMRADE]
When I rose up in the morning early
On a sunny day in the burst of spring,
My step was lithe, and my form was burly,
I felt as blithe as a bird on the wing;
As I was going out my way
Who should stand in the path but Death;
I knew he was strong, and would not be said nay,
So I wished him "Good-morrow,"—but I caught my breath,
When, "Hurry on, Shawn, for I'm wanting you to come with me," he saith.