To the Willow-tree

Thou art to all lost love the best
The only true plant found
Where-with young men and maids distrest
And left of love, are crown'd

When once the lover's rose is dead
Or laid aside forlorn:
Then willow garlands 'bout the head
Bedew'd with tears are worn

When with neglect, the lover's bane
Poor maids rewarded be
For their love lost, their only gain
Is but a wreath from thee

And underneath thy cooling shade
When weary of the light
The love-spent youth and lovesick maid
Come to weep out the night