Classic Poem

My soul went forth in green and gold,
It was a holiday;
In light and blossoms was she crowned,
The month was May,
My soul was blithe, I heard her sing,
As she went down the way:

“Let us be glad because the earth
Is new with love and song,
Let us be glad that we are fair,
And that the day is long,
Oh, let us dance, since right and love
Have triumphed over wrong!”

It was the twilight when my soul
Came silent, home to me,
Her frock was rent from hem to ruff,
There was no light to see,
Below the tattered crown her eyes
Wept bitterly.

“Why come you weeping from the feast?”
Unto my soul I said;
“Bring me,” quoth she, “my cloak of gray,
The gray hood for my head,
Bring me my robe of work and tears,
The holiday is dead.

“For some will dance and others sing,
Nor see the sun drop low,
They do not hear above their joy
The voice that bids me go;
The cloak of gray was made for me,
But why I do not know.”