The Mower's Song

My mind was once the true survey

Of all these meadows fresh and gay,

And in the greenness of the grass

Did see its hopes as in a glass;

When Juliana came, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

But these, while I with sorrow pine,

Grew more luxuriant still and fine,

That not one blade of grass you spy'd

But had a flower on either side;

When Juliana came, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

Unthankful meadows, could you so

A fellowship so true forgo?

And in your gaudy May-games meet

While I lay trodden under feet?

When Juliana came, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

But what you in compassion ought,

Shall now by my revenge be wrought;

And flow'rs, and grass, and I and all,

Will in one common ruin fall.

For Juliana comes, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

And thus, ye meadows, which have been

Companions of my thoughts more green,

Shall now the heraldry become

With which I shall adorn my tomb;

For Juliana comes, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.