Ye have been fresh and green, <br />Ye have been fill'd with flowers; <br />And ye the walks have been <br />Where maids have spent their hours. <br /> <br />You have beheld how they <br />With wicker arks did come, <br />To kiss and bear away <br />The richer cowslips home. <br /> <br />You've heard them sweetly sing, <br />And seen them in a round; <br />Each virgin, like a spring, <br />With honeysuckles crown'd. <br /> <br />But now, we see none here, <br />Whose silvery feet did tread <br />And with dishevell'd hair <br />Adorn'd this smoother mead. <br /> <br />Like unthrifts, having spent <br />Your stock, and needy grown <br />You're left here to lament <br />Your poor estates alone.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-meadows/
