I. I Wish That When You Died Last May, Charles, There Had Died Along With You Three Parts Of Spring'S Delightful Things; Ay, And, For Me, The Fourth Part Too. Ii. A Foolish Thought, And Worse, Perhaps! There Must Be Many A Pair Of Friends Who, Arm In Arm, Deserve The Warm Moon-Births And The Long Evening-Ends. Iii. So, For Their Sake, Be May Still May! Let Their New Time, As Mine Of Old, Do All It Did For Me: I Bid Sweet Sights And Sounds Throng Manifold. Iv. Only, One Little Sight, One Plant, Woods Have In May, That Starts Up Green Save A Sole Streak Which, So To Speak, Is Spring'S Blood, Spilt Its Leaves Between, V. That, They Might Spare; A Certain Wood Might Miss The Plant; Their Loss Were Small: But I, WheNe'er The Leaf Grows There, Its Drop Comes From My Heart, That's All.