Robert Burns, 1794
Here is the glen, and here the bower|
All underneath the birchen shade;
The village-bell has told the hour,
O what can stay my lovely maid?
2. 'Tis not Maria's whispering call;
3. It is Maria's voice I hear;|
So calls the woodlark in the grove,
His little, faithful mate to cheer;
At once 'tis music and 'tis love.
4. And art thou come! and art thou true!
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