Behold, My Love, How Green the Groves
- Behold, my love, how green the groves,
- The primrose banks how fair;
- The balmy gales awake the flowers,
- And wave thy flowing hair.
- The lav’rock shuns the palace gay,
- And o’er the cottage sings:
- For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
- To Shepherds as to Kings.
- Let minstrels sweep the skilfu’ string,
- In lordly lighted ha’:
- The Shepherd stops his simple reed,
- Blythe in the birken shaw.
- The Princely revel may survey
- Our rustic dance wi’ scorn;
- But are their hearts as light as ours,
- Beneath the milk-white thorn!
- The shepherd, in the flowery glen;
- In shepherd’s phrase, will woo:
- The courtier tells a finer tale,
- But is his heart as true!
- These wild-wood flowers I’ve pu’d, to deck
- That spotless breast o’ thine:
- The courtiers’ gems may witness love,
- But, ’tis na love like mine.
|This work published before January 1, 1923 is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.|