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I MADE a song one morning. Sitting in the shade under the hornbeam hedge. I played it on my pipe. And the clear notes delighted me. And the little hedge-sparrows and the chipmunks Also seemed pleased. So I was very proud That I had made so good a song.

Would you like to hear my song ? I will play it to you As I did that evening to my Beloved, Standing on the moon-bright cobbles Underneath her window.

But you are not my Beloved, You must give me a silver shilling. Round and glittering like the moon. Copper I will not take. How should copper pay for a song All made out of nothing. And so beautiful !