 | The Shepherd's Garden |  |
73
THE TRYST.
The earth now doth present
Her beauty to the moon;
Sweet flowers give up their scent
And singing brooks their tune,
Sweetheart, sweetheart,
Why come you not?
So soon to part:
True love forgot!
Her beauty to the moon;
Sweet flowers give up their scent
And singing brooks their tune,
Sweetheart, sweetheart,
Why come you not?
So soon to part:
True love forgot!
The church clock on the hill
Doth chide your long delay;
The nightingale is still
Because you are away.
Sweetheart, sweetheart,
Why come you not?
So soon we part:
True love forgot!
Doth chide your long delay;
The nightingale is still
Because you are away.
Sweetheart, sweetheart,
Why come you not?
So soon we part:
True love forgot!
| The Shepherd's Garden | |