I bended unto me a bough of May, <br /> That I might see and smell: <br /> It bore it in a sort of way, <br /> It bore it very well. <br /> But, when I let it backward sway, <br /> Then it were hard to tell <br /> With what a toss, with what a swing, <br /> The dainty thing <br /> Resumed its proper level, <br /> And sent me to the devil. <br /> I know it did--you doubt it? <br /> I turned, and saw them whispering about it.<br /><br />Thomas Edward Brown<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-bended-unto-me-a-bough/
