Lute Song

What will you send her, What will you tell her, That shall unbend her, That shall compel her? Love, that shall fold her So naught can sever; Truth, that shall hold her Ever and ever. What will you do then So she 'll ne' er grieve you? Knowing you true then Never will leave you? I 'll lay before here, There in her bower, Aye to adore her, My heart like a flower.