Black’on frowns east on Maidon,

   And westward to the sea,

But on neither is his frown laden

   With scorn, as his frown on me!

At dawn my heart grew heavy,

   I could not sip the wine,

I left the jocund bevy

   And that young man o’ mine.

The roadside elms pass by me,—

   Why do I sink with shame

When the birds a-perch there eye me?

   They, too, have done the same!