Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers <br />Are lying in field and lane, <br />With dandelions to tell the hours <br />That never are told again. <br />Oh may I squire you round the meads <br />And pick you posies gay? <br />--'Twill do no harm to take my arm. <br />'You may, young man, you may.' <br /> <br />Ah, spring was sent for lass and lad, <br />'Tis now the blood runs gold, <br />And man and maid had best be glad <br />Before the world is old. <br />What flowers to-day may flower to-morrow, <br />But never as good as new. <br />--Suppose I wound my arm right round-- <br />''Tis true, young man, 'tis true.' <br /> <br />Some lads there are, 'tis shame to say, <br />That only court to thieve, <br />And once they bear the bloom away <br />'Tis little enough they leave. <br />Then keep your heart for men like me <br />And safe from trustless chaps. <br />My love is true and all for you. <br />'Perhaps, young man, perhaps.' <br /> <br />Oh, look in my eyes then, can you doubt? <br />--Why, 'tis a mile from town. <br />How green the grass is all about! <br />We might as well sit down. <br />--Ah, life, what is it but a flower? <br />Why must true lovers sigh? <br />Be kind, have pity, my own, my pretty,-- <br />'Good-bye, young man, good-bye.'<br /><br />Alfred Edward Housman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oh-see-how-thick-the-goldcup-flowers/
