To Meadows

Ye have been fresh and green,Ye have been fill'd with flowers,And ye the walks have beenWhere maids have spent their hours.

You have beheld how theyWith wicker arks did comeTo kiss and bear awayThe richer cowslips home.

Y'ave heard them sweetly sing,And seen them in a round:Each virgin like a spring,With honeysuckles crown'd.

But now we see none hereWhose silvery feet did tread,And with dishevell'd hairAdorn'd this smoother mead.

Like unthrifts, having spentYour stock and needy grown,Y'are left here to lamentYour poor estates, alone.