Here They Trysted, And Here They Strayed

Here they trysted, here they strayed, In the leafage dewy and boon, Many a man and many a maid, And the morn was merry June. 'Death is fleet, Life is sweet,' Sang the blackbird in the may; And the hour with flying feet, While they dreamed, was yesterday. Many a maid and many a man Found the leafage close and boon; Many a destiny began - O, the morn was merry June! Dead and gone, dead and gone, (Hark the blackbird in the may!), Life and Death went hurrying on, Cheek on cheek--and where were they? Dust on dust engendering dust In the leafage fresh and boon, Man and maid fulfil their trust - Still the morn turns merry June. Mother Life, Father Death (O, the blackbird in the may!), Each the other's breath for breath, Fleet the times of the world away.