O'RE the smooth enameld green
Where no print of step hath been
Follow me as I sing
And touch the warbled string.
Under the shady roof
Of branching Elm Star-proof
Follow me
I will bring you where she sits
Clad in splendor as befits
Her deity.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not seen.
Where no print of step hath been
Follow me as I sing
And touch the warbled string.
Under the shady roof
Of branching Elm Star-proof
Follow me
I will bring you where she sits
Clad in splendor as befits
Her deity.
Such a rural Queen
All Arcadia hath not seen.