Come, let us find a cottage, love,
  That's green for half a mile around;
To laugh at every grumbling bee,
  Whose sweetest blossom's not yet found.
Where many a bird shall sing for you,
  And in our garden build its nest:
They'll sing for you as though their eggs
  Were lying in your breast,
      My love -
Were lying warm in your soft breast.

'Tis strange how men find time to hate,
  When life is all too short for love;
But we, away from our own kind,
  A different life can live and prove.
And early on a summer's morn,
  As I go walking out with you,
We'll help the sun with our warm breath
  To clear away the dew,
      My love,
To clear away the morning dew.