I lost my heart

I did not lose my heart in summer's even,

When roses to the moonrise burst apart:

When plumes were under heel and lead was flying,

In blood and smoke and flame I lost my heart.

I lost it to a soldier and a foeman,

A chap that did not kill me, but he tried;

That took the sabre straight, and took it striking

And laughed and kissed his hand to me and died.