charles ives - harpalus lyrics
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oh, harpalus! (thus would he say)
unhappiest under sunne!
the cause of thine unhappy day
by love was first begunne
thou wentest first by sute to seeke
a tigre to make tame
that settes not by thy love a leeke;
but makes thy griefe her game
as easy it were to convert
the forest into a flame;
as for to turne a frowarde hert
whom thou so faine wouldst frame
corin, he liveth carelesse:
he leapes among the leaves:
he eats the frutes of thy redresse:
thou “reapst” he takes the sheaves
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