A Pauper Joins the Nymph and the Shepherd

A Pauper joins the Nymph and the Shepherd

O Dream the world was young, and love were too,
I dreamed there was truth in every woman’s coo.
Not my pleasures, but was she moved?
She was with me, and was thy love.

O time that drives sheep from field to fold,
O river raged and rocks grow old.
But my Love will make these rocks new,
And calm the river’s tides afew.

These flowers fade, and roses dead,
Thy love renews, roses now red.
To wayward winter reckoning yields cold,
Love turns it to jolly summer fields of gold.

Yet I have no gowns, no shoes, no bed of roses,
No cap, no kirtle, no fragrant posies.
Not a thing embroidered all with leaves of myrtle,
Since I have nothing, No, not little.

No belt of straw, no ivy buds,
No coral clasps, no amber studs,
Not these in I, she was not moved,
And fled from me, was not thy love.

And world now cold, and love not fed,
Our age to date, our joys now dead.
These tears and cries I say will prove,
She was with thee, and was thy love.

- Ramon Damasing, 2005