I Did Not Lose My Heart In Summer's Even
I did not lose my heart in summer's even,
When roses to the moonrise burst apart.
When plumes were under heel and lead was flying,
In blood and smoke and flame I lost my heart.
I lost it to a soldier and a foeman,
A chap that did not kill me, but he tried;
That took the sabre straight and took it striking,
And laughed and kissed his hand to me and died.