Perdita

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The sea coast of Bohemia  
Is pleasant to the view  
When singing larks spring from the grass  
To fade into the blue,  
And all the hawthorn hedges break
In wreaths of purest snow,  
And yellow daffodils are out,  
And roses half in blow.  

The sea-coast of Bohemia  
Is sad as sad can be,
The prince has ta’en our flower of maids  
Across the violet sea;  
Our Perdita has gone with him,  
No more we dance the round  
Upon the green in joyous play,
Or wake the tabor’s sound.  

The sea-coast of Bohemia  
Has many wonders seen,  
The shepherd lass wed with a king,  
The shepherd with a queen;
But such a wonder as my love  
Was never seen before,  
It is my joy and sorrow now  
To love her evermore.  

The sea-coast of Bohemia
Is haunted by a light  
Of memory fair of lady’s eyes,  
And fame of gallant knight;  
The princes seek its charmèd strand,  
But ah, it was our knell
When o’er the sea our Perdita  
Went with young Florizel.  

The sea-coast of Bohemia  
Is not my resting-place,  
For with her waned from out the day
A beauty and a grace:  
O had I kissed her on the lips  
I would no longer weep,  
But live by that until the day  
I fall to shade and sleep.

© James Hebblethwaite