MAY'S LOVE.

You love all, you say, Round, beneath, above me: Find me then some way Better than to love me, Me, too, dearest May!

O world-kissing eyes Which the blue heavens melt to; I, sad, overwise, Loathe the sweet looks dealt to All things — men and flies.

You love all, you say: Therefore, Dear, abate me Just your love, I pray! Shut your eyes and hate me — Only me — fair May!