University of Virginia Library


23

A LAY OF THE GREENWOOD.

Mount, mount thy steed, sweet Rosalind,
I crave a boon to-day;
Mount, mount thy steed, my ladye bright,
And to the woods away!
For each waving bough
Doth woo us now
To where cool winds murmur, and clear streams flow.
Glad thoughts be thine, sweet Rosalind
Beneath yon laughing skies;
Glad thoughts to make more gladsome still
The soft light of thine eyes.
No time is this
For grief, I wis,
But for pleasant fancies and dreams of bliss.

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I will lead thee far, sweet Rosalind,
Through sunny glade and glen,
O'er the lilied lea, by the green hill side,
Far, far from the haunts of men;
Till the dove's low moan
Is heard alone
'Midst the shadowy branches o'er us thrown.
And there, in the depths, dear Rosalind,
Of that sweet sylvan scene,
Will I weave a wreath of blushing flowers,
And crown thee Love's fair queen;
And on bended knee
Vow loyally
Ever thy liegeman till death to be.
Then mount thy steed, sweet Rosalind,
And grant my boon to-day;
Mount, mount, thy steed, my ladye bright,
And to the woods away!

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For each waving bough
Doth woo us now
To where cool winds murmur, and clear streams flow.