My Mind was once the true survey <br />Of all these Medows fresh and gay; <br />And in the greenness of the Grass <br />Did see its Hopes as in a Glass; <br />When Juliana came, and she <br />What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. <br /> <br />But these, while I with Sorrow pine, <br />Grew more luxuriant still and fine; <br />That not one Blade of Grass you spy'd, <br />But had a Flower on either side; <br />When Juliana came, and She <br />What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. <br /> <br />Unthankful Meadows, could you so <br />A fellowship so true forego, <br />And in your gawdy May-games meet, <br />While I lay trodden under feet? <br />When Juliana came , and She <br />What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. <br /> <br />But what you in Compassion ought, <br />Shall now by my Revenge be wrought: <br />And Flow'rs, and Grass, and I and all, <br />Will in one common Ruine fall. <br />For Juliana comes, and She <br />What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me. <br /> <br />And thus, ye Meadows, which have been <br />Companions of my thoughts more green, <br />Shall now the Heraldry become <br />With which I shall adorn my Tomb; <br />For Juliana comes, and She <br />What I do to the Grass, does to my Thoughts and Me.<br /><br />Andrew Marvell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mower-s-song/
