Give Me A Kiss, And To That

None Pities Him That Is In The Snare, Who Warned Before, Would Not Beware.

I Sing Of Brooks, Of Blossoms, Birds, And Bowers: Of April, May, Or June, And July Flowers. I Sing Of Maypoles, Hock-carts, Wassails, Wakes, Of Bridegrooms, Brides, And Of The Bridal Cakes.

When The Tempter Me Pursueth With The Sins Of All My Youth, And Half Damns Me With Untruth, Sweet Spirit, Comfort Me!

Whatever Comes, Let's Be Content Withal: Among God's Blessings There Is No One Small.

Bid Me To Love, And I Will Give A Loving Heart To Thee.