under the greenwood tree
|
who loves to lie with me
|
and tune his merry note
|
unto the sweet bird's
|
come hither come hither come hither
|
here shall he see no enemy
|
but winter and rough weather
|
|
Who doth ambition shun
|
and love to live in the sun
|
seeking the food he eats
|
and pleased with what he gets
|
come hither come hither come hither
|
here shall he see no enemy
|
but winter and rough weather
|
|
and if it do come to pass
|
that any man turn ass
|
leaving his wealth and ease
|
a stubborn will to please
|
ducdame ducdame ducdame
|
there shall he see gross fools as he
|
and if will come to me
|
|
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|
Under the Greenwood Tree
|
| Donovan Leitch |
