To One Who Said Me Nay

This much the gods vouchsafe today: That we two lie in the clover, Watching the heavens dip and sway, With galleons sailing over.

This much is granted for an hour: That we are young and tender, That I am bee and you are flower, Honey-mouthed and swaying slender.

This sweet of sweets is ours now: To wander through the land, Plucking an apple from its bough To toss from hand to hand.

No thing is certain, joy nor sorrow, Except the hour we know it; Oh, wear my heart today; tomorrow Who knows where the winds will blow it?