Come hither, come hither, come hither — and take delight in these lovely verses
Songs of the Greenwood
1
Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet bird’s throat —
Come hither, some 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 pleased with what he gets —
Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
from As You Like It, William Shakespeare