A while ago I lost my heart to her.
The green-eyed witch who nicked it as I slept
A dreamless sleep. And I the foolish cur
So stumbled 'cross the wood. And wholly crept
Through bower, heath and pine. Till hoary moon-
Light lit my battered face. And there I saw
Upon a silver bridge the thieving loon.
'Why don't be foul' quoth I. 'By mortal law
That was not yours to take'. She turned to me
'I won it fair you twit! ' tears in her eyes.
'I shan't forgo this gem of mine' quoth she.
By her soft hand I took. 'You keep your prize.
But in return you shall gift me your heart'.
And trading this with kiss and smile we did depart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem