The Invitation

Come hither, my dear one, my choice one, and rare one, 2And let us be walking the meadows so fair, Where on pilewort and daisies the eye fondly gazes, 2And the wind plays so sweet in thy bonny brown hair. Come with thy maiden eye, lay silks and satins by; 2Come in thy russet or grey cotton gown; Come to the meads, dear, where flags, sedge, and reeds appear, 2Rustling to soft winds and bowing low down. Come with thy parted hair, bright eyes, and forehead bare; 2Come to the whitethorn that grows in the lane; To banks of primroses, where sweetness reposes, 2Come, love, and let us be happy again. Come where the violet flowers, come where the morning showers 2Pearl on the primrose and speedwell so blue; Come to that clearest brook that ever runs round the nook 2Where you and I pledged our first love so true.