A Simple Maid

Thou hast lost thy love, poor fool,
Creep into thy bed and weep.
Loss must be a maiden's school,
Loss and love and one long sleep.
Half her time perplex'd with tears
Till the dust end all her years,—
All her fears.

Was thy love so gracious, lass?
Never such a love before
In this old world came to pass,
Nor shall be for evermore.
Sweet and true, a king of men,
None like him shall come again,—
Come again.

Was thy bud so precious, lass,
Opening to a perfect rose?
Till between the leaves, alas!
Winter fell in flaky snows.
Then, ah! then, its crimson side
Brake upon the briers and died,—
Brake and died.