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.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleas'd with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
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Comments1Wow! What a refreshing poem. It really brings out a feel of simplicity, contentness and an appreciation for nature's beauty. Made me feel like packin up city life and heading to some peaceful woodland. The repetitive lines kinda gives it a lullaby rhythm. Loved it! Makes me wanna reread it over and over again.