As when you are to part;

I know, to see my land so clear

Cut me to the heart.

What vain regrets to have lov'd so ill

What was our all!

What idle vows to love her still

Though she should fall!

At stroke of noon my love came in

Sharpset for his food;

To see him was right sense to win,

And feel safe and good.

I was asham'd my fears to tell

Lest he should think,

"I thought I knew this woman well—

But what makes her shrink?"

 iii 

iii

The summer went her gracious way

Of sun and lingering eves;

I did my share to win the hay,

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