The Mower's Song

By Andrew Marvell

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.

Credits

This poem is in the public domain.