The Mower's Song

My mind was once the true survey
    Of all these meadows fresh and gay,
        And in the greenness of the grass
        Did see its hopes as in a glass;
        When Juliana came, and she
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

        But these, while I with sorrow pine,
        Grew more luxuriant still and fine,
        That not one blade of grass you spy’d
        But had a flower on either side;
        When Juliana came, and she
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

        Unthankful meadows, could you so
        A fellowship so true forgo?
        And in your gaudy May-games meet
        While I lay trodden under feet?
        When Juliana came, and she
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

        But what you in compassion ought,
        Shall now by my revenge be wrought;
        And flow’rs, and grass, and I and all,
        Will in one common ruin fall.
        For Juliana comes, and she
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.

        And thus, ye meadows, which have been
        Companions of my thoughts more green,
        Shall now the heraldry become
        With which I shall adorn my tomb;
        For Juliana comes, and she
What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.