With strawberries we filled a tray,
And then we drove away, away
— — Along the links beside the sea,
— — Where wave and wind were light and free,
And August felt as fresh as May.

And where the springy turf was gay
With thyme and balm and many a spray
— — Of wild roses, you tempted me
With strawberries!

A shadowy sail, silent and gray,
Stole like a ghost across the bay;
— — But none could hear me ask my fee,
— — And none could know what came to be.
Can sweethearts all their thirst allay
With strawberries?