THE PATHOS OF THE ROSE IN POETRY 355 



Prima che sua belleza sia fuggita : 

 Sicche, fanciulle, mentre & piu fiorita, 

 Coglian la bella rosa del giardino. 

 I' mi trovai, etc. 



I went a-roaming, maidens, one bright day, 

 In a green garden in mid month of May. 



Violets and lilies grew on every side 



Mid the green grass, and young flowers wonderful, 

 Golden, and white, and red, and azure-eyed ; 



Toward which I stretched my hands, eager to pull 



Plenty to make my fair curls beautiful, 

 To crown my rippling curls with garlands gay. 



I went a-roaming, maidens, one bright day, 

 In a green garden in mid month of May. 



But when my lap was full of flowers I spied 

 Eoses at last, roses of every hue ; 



Therefore I ran to pluck their ruddy pride, 

 Because their perfume was so sweet and true 

 That all my soul went forth with pleasure new, 



With yearning and desire too soft to say. 



I went a-roaming, maidens, one bright day, 

 In a green garden in mid month of May. 



I gazed and gazed. Hard task it were to tell 



How lovely were the roses in that hour : 

 One was but peeping from her verdant shell, 



And some were faded, some were scarce in flower. 



Then Love said : Go, pluck from the blooming bower 

 Those that thou seest ripe upon the spray. 



I went a-roaming, maidens, one bright day, 

 In a green garden in mid month of May. 



For when the full rose quits her tender sheath, 



When she is sweetest and most fair to see, 

 Then is the time to place her in thy wreath, 



Before her beauty and her freshness flee. 



Gather ye therefore roses with great glee, 

 Sweet girls, or e'er their perfume pass away. 



I went a-roaming, maidens, one bright day, 

 In a green garden in mid month of May. 



AA2 



