Curse

The maiden cursed her raven eyes, She cursed them for their treacheries. “Be blinded now, to you if heaven All that is visible has given! If ye see all, ye traitors, say Why saw ye not my love to day:— He pass’d my door,—but, truants, ye Gave not the gentlest hint to me. He had a nosegay in his hand,— He wore a gold embroider’d band,— ’Twas made by other hands than mine! Upon it wreathing branches twine: May every branch embroidered there, A miserable heart-wound bear;— Upon each branch, may every leaf Bring and betoken toil and grief.”