by William Ernest Henley (1849 - 1903)

Of a gray ancestor, Tom Heywood hight
Language: English 
I talked one midnight with the jolly ghost
Of a gray ancestor, Tom Heywood hight;
And, "Here's," says he, his old heart liquor-lifted --
"Here's how we did when Gloriana shone:"

All in a garden green
   Thrushes were singing;
Red rose and white between,
   Lilies were springing;
It was the merry May;
   Yet sang my Lady: --
"Nay, Sweet, now nay, now nay!
   I am not ready."

Then to a pleasant shade
   I did invite her:
All things a concert made,
   For to delight her;
Under, the grass was gay;
   Yet sang my Lady: --
"Nay, Sweet, now nay, now nay!
   I am not ready."

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2007-06-18
Line count: 20
Word count: 102