I bended unto me a Bough

 I bended unto me a bough of May,
That I might see and smell:
It bore it in a sort of way,
It bore it very well.

But, when I let it backward sway,
Then it were hard to tell
With what a toss, with what a swing,
The dainty thing
Resumed its proper level,
And sent me to the devil.

I know it did--you doubt it?
I turned, and saw them whispering about it.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...