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For works with similar titles, see Infant Sorrow.
Notebook 18 - In a myrtle shade


    in a mittle shade

    [To a lovely mirtle bound
    Blossoms show'ring all around del.]
2  O, how sick & weary I
    Underneath my mirtle lie,
    Like to dung upon the ground
    Underneath my mirtle bound.

1  Why should I be bound to thee
    O my lovely mirtle tree?
    Love, free love, cannot be bound
    To any tree that grows on ground.

3  Oft my mirtle sigh'd in vain
    To behold my heavy chain
    Oft [the priest beheld drl.] my father saw us sigh,
    And laugh'd at our simplicity.

    So I smote him & his gore
    Stain'd the roots my mirtle bore.
    But the time of youth is fled,
    And grey hairs are on my head.

This work was published before January 1, 1924, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.