I'm tired of gleaning the live-long day
Though the neighbors declare that my work was play;'
For if Walter had scorned to be helping me,
I never had gathered the heap you see;
For I strayed after poppies and corn-flowers bleu
And large moon daisies, all bright with dew, --
While Walter was working as hard as could be;
Yet he's but poor lad and no mate for me
Yet whenever I go, and do all that I willl,
The words of his wooing will haunt me still.