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.