First World War Poetry Digital Archive

Loving Henry


Henry, Henry, do you love me? Do I love you, Mary? Oh can you mean to liken me To the aspen tree Whose leaves do shake and vary From white to green And back again, Shifting and contrary?

Henry, Henry, do you love me, Do you love me truly? Oh, Mary, must I say again My love's a pain, A torment most unruly? It tosses me Like a ship at sea When the storm rages fully.

Henry, Henry, why do you love me? Mary, dear, have pity! I swear, of all the girls there are Both near and far, In country or in city, There's none like you, So kind, so true, So wise, so brave, so pretty.

To view other similar items in the archive click on the hyper-linked words below.