ALL the rhymes and songs are only sweet,
And thy world with faeries compete,
How then will I not tread and rove,
To glance with thee at the seasons move?
I see portraits of thy designs,
A glimpse of apples and goodly pines,
Distant hills, and the twilight pale,
A gleaming valley and the dale!
Now take me to a boundless world,
Where thrives the flock and shepherds bold,
And the mellows of summer day,
All of that which delight my stay.
Those birds which tread on lilies bright,
And a swarm of bees ‘pon roses white!
All pleasures of the boundless shore
And the pretty pastures we adore.
But those stars do yet greet a night,
And so gild my brow with the light!
Then I tread with thee on the rove
To glance with thee at the seasons move.
I shall afford thee time to prove,
All thy sweet tales and boundless love.
Now take my hand o’ lovely night,
To win me and make me delight.
A poem by Lancelot