Shepherds All And Maidens Fair

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PIPE, shepherds, pipe, the summer's ripe;
  So wreathe your crooks with flowers;
The world's in tune to Love and June,
  The days are rich in hours,
In rosy hours, in golden hours--
  Love's crown and fortune fair,
So gather gold for Love to hold,
  And flowers for Love to wear!


Sing, maidens, sing! A dancing ring
  Of pleasures speed your way;
Too harsh and dry is fierce July,
  Too maiden-meek was May;
But Love and June their old sweet tune
  Are singing at your ear:
So learn the song and troop along
  To meet your shepherds dear!


Oh, Chloris fair, a rose to wear,
  And gold to spend have I--
When all are gay on this June day
  You would not bid me sigh?
You would not scorn a swain forlorn--
  Each shepherd far and near
Hastes to his sweet, with flying feet,
  As I towards my dear.


No maids there be in Arcady
  But have their shepherds true;
Must you alone despise the one
  Who only pipes for you?
You have no ear my pipe to hear
  Though all for you it be;
And I no eyes for her who sighs
  And only sings for me!

© Edith Nesbit