Under the greenwood tree,Who loves to lie with me,And tune his merry noteUnto the sweet bird's throat,Come hither, come hither, come hither:Here shall he seeNo enemyBut winter and rough weather.
Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune 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.