May And Death
I. I wish that when you died last May, Charles, there had died along with you Three parts of springs delightful things; Ay, and, for me, the fourth part too. II. A foolish thought, and worse, perhaps! There must be many a pair of friends Who, arm in arm, deserve the warm Moon-births and the long evening-ends. III. So, for their sake, be May still May! Let their new time, as mine of old, Do all it did for me: I bid Sweet sights and sounds throng manifold. IV. Only, one little sight, one plant, Woods have in May, that starts up green Save a sole streak which, so to speak, Is springs blood, spilt its leaves between, V. That, they might spare; a certain wood Might miss the plant; their loss were small: But I, wheneer the leaf grows there, Its drop comes from my heart, thats all.
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