Under the greenwood tree. I. UNDER the greenwood tree And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither; Here shall he see No enemy, But winter and rough weather. II. Who doth ambition shun, And loves to live i' th' sun, Seeking the food he eats, And pleas'd with what he gets, Come hither, come hither, come hither; No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change ! No, Time, thou shalt not boast that I do change! And rather make them born to our desire Than think that we before have heard them told. Thy registers and thee I both defy, Not wond'ring at the present nor the past, Now the hungry lion roars. Now the hungry lion roars, And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud, Puts the wretch that lies in woe, In remembrance of a shroud. |