The Wind and the Corn
The wind across the standing corn, Upon an August day :- When you were green, that now are ripe, I kissed the Maid of May.
She had hawthorn petal shells On her cap and gown ; But I came over Grasstop hill And blew the petals down !
In thirty days, or thirty-one, About the first of June, When you were ankle-deep and dark Beneath a growing moon, I stole softly here and there, Softly far and near ; In river meadow or Grasstop hill I could not find my dear.
When you are reaped, that now be ripe, You will not feel the rain ; But I shall wake with new-year Spring To find the Maid again.
Cherry petal shells she'll wear In her morning gown, And I'll come over Grasstop hill
And shake the petals down—
Down, down, down again, And shake the petals down !
FRANK ICENnott.
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