Hero and herdsman in red earth are one. - John Warren, 3rd Baron de Tabley

A fair girl tripping out to meet her love,
Trimmed in her best, fresh as a clover bud.
An old crone leaning at an ember’d fire,
Short-breath’d in sighs and moaning to herself—
And all the interval of stealing years
To make that this, and one by one detach
Some excellent condition; till Despair
Faint at the vision, sadly, fiercely blinds
Her burning eyes on her forgetful hands.

I had a true-love, none so dear, And a friend both leal and tried.
I had a cask of good old beer, And a gallant horse to ride.A little while did Fortune smile On him and her and me.
We sang along the road of life Like birds upon a tree.My lady fell to shame and hell, And with her took my friend.
My cask ran sour, my horse went lame,— So alone in the cold I end.

Sigh, heart, and break not; rest, lark, and wake not! Day I hear coming to draw my Love away.
As mere-waves whisper, and clouds grow crisper, Ah, like a rose he will waken up with day!