Berrying

My love went berrying Where brooks were merrying And wild wings ferrying Heaven's amethyst; The wildflowers blessed her, My dearest Hester, The winds caressed her, The sunbeams kissed.

I followed, carrying Her basket; varying Fond hopes of marrying With hopes denied; Both late and early She deemed me surly, And bowed her curly Fair head and sighed:

"The skies look lowery; It will he showery; No longer flowery The way I find. No use in going. 'T will soon be snowing If you keep growing Much more unkind."

Then looked up tearfully. And I, all fearfully, Replied, "My dear, fully Will I explain: I love you dearly, But look not cheerly Since all says clearly I love in vain."

Then smiled she airily; And answered merrily With words that—verily Made me decide: And drawing tow'rd her, I there implored her— I who adored her— To be my bride.

O sweet simplicity Of young rusticity, Without duplicity, Whom love made know, That hearts in meter Make earth completer; And kisses, sweeter Than—berries grow.