A spinning song

How many lilies be ablow?
Count them and see—
Seven by the wail, and seven by the door;
'Tis time he came to me.
Oh, love's bitter!

Was ever a whiter web than this
That I spin to-day?
A wedding gown or a winding sheet,
Love, which shall it be?
Oh, love's bitter!

The old dames stand in the street,
'Neath the willow trees;
And they mark how white my lilies blow,
And they hear my bees.
Oh, love's bitter!

And one dame says, "Five lads of mine
Be in the sea;"
Another says, "That lad of mine,
He came not back to me."
Oh, love's bitter!

The willow trees grow down to the wharves,
Green as of old;
(Green as the day he went from me;)
The sea is of gold.
Oh, 1ove's bitter!

Two ships I see: one in the west—
Love is it thine?
One in the east, in a windy mist—
0h, love, which is thine?
Oh, love's bitter!

Then speak the dames : "Her ship went down
That night at sea."
My seven white lilies—do ye hear?
For this they speak of me!
Oh, love's bitter!