THOU ART NOT FOR THE FASHION OF THESE TIMES, WHERE NONE WILL SWEAT BUT FOR PROMOTION.
September 7, 2012
UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE
WHO LOVES TO LIE WITH ME,
AND TURN HIS MERRY NOTE
UNTO THE SWEET BIRD’S THROAT,
COME HITHER, COME HITHER, COME HITHER:
HERE SHALL HE SEE
NO ENEMY
BUT WINTER AND ROUGH WEATHER.
No comments yet
