Regret not me;
Beneath the sunny tree
I lie uncaring, slumbering peacefully

Swift as the light
I flew my faery flight;
Ecstatically I moved, and feared no night

I did not know
That heydays fade and go
But deemed that what was would be always so

I skipped at morn
Between the yellowing corn
Thinking it good and glorious to be born

I ran at eves
Among the piled-up sheaves
Dreaming, `I greave not, therefore nothing grieves'

Now soon will come
The apple, pеar, and plum
And hinds will sing, and autumn insects hum

Again you will fare
To cider-makings rarе
And junketings; but I shall not be there
Yet gaily sing
Until the pewter ring
Those songs we sang when we went gipsying

And lightly dance
Some triple-timed romance
In coupled figures, and forget mischance;

And mourn not me
Beneath the yellowing tree;
For I shall mind not, slumbering peacefully