Who was there had seen us
 Wouldn't bid him run?
Heavy lay between us
 All our sires had done.

There he was, a-springing
 Of a pious race,
Setting hags a-swinging
 In a market-place;

Sowing turnips over
 Where the poppies lay;
Looking past the clover,
 Adding up the hay;

Shouting through the Spring song,
 Clumping down the sod;
Toadying, in sing-song,
 To a crabbed god.

There I was, that came of
 Folk of mud and name-
I that had my name of
 Them without a name.

Up and down a mountain
 Streeled my silly stock;
Passing by a fountain,
 Wringing at a rock;

Devil-gotten sinners,
 Throwing back their heads,
Fiddling for their dinners,
 Kissing for their beds.

Not a one had seen us
 Wouldn't help him flee.
Angry ran between us
 Blood of him and me.

How shall I be mating
 Who have looked above-
Living for a hating,
 Dying of a love?