False Love, take hence thy roses, <br />Give me the bitter Rue <br />That on my heart reposes, <br />Sorrow at least is true. <br /> <br />Maiden so fair and pale, <br />Wandering adown the dale, <br />What flow'r that drinks the dew <br />Or light is dear to you?— <br />The bitter Rue. <br /> <br />Maid on thy wedding day, <br />Wan as the flower of May, <br />What buds of brightest hue, <br />Say shall we weave for you?— <br />The bitter Rue.<br /><br />Frances Anne Kemble<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-for-music/
