My mind was once the true survey

    Of all these meadows fresh and gay,

    And in the greenness of the grass

    Did see its hopes as in a glass;

    When Juliana came, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.



    But these, while I with sorrow pine,

    Grew more luxuriant still and fine,

    That not one blade of grass you spied,

    But had a flower on either side;

    When Juliana came, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.



    Unthankful meadows, could you so

    A fellowship so true forgo,

    And in your gaudy May-games meet,

    While I lay trodden under feet?

    When Juliana came, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.



    But what you in compassion ought,

    Shall now by my revenge be wrought:

    And flow'rs, and grass, and I and all,

    Will in one common ruin fall.

    For Juliana comes, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.



    And thus, ye meadows, which have been

    Companions of my thoughts more green,

    Shall now the heraldry become

    With which I will adorn my tomb;

    For Juliana comes, and she

What I do to the grass, does to my thoughts and me.