romantic poetry

i saw the clouds among the hills
do the boys and girls still go
there is no flock, however watched and tended
their beautiful hair
the ships are lying in the bay
i cannot always feel his greatness
to the passionate lover
my mother taught me that every night
she might have known it in the earlier spring
love me at last, or if you will not
braided and woven
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
i bid them all farewell