Page:The Poems of William Blake (Shepherd, 1887).djvu/38

 I love the laughing vale,
 * I love the echoing hill,

Where mirth does never fail,
 * And the jolly swain laughs his fill.

I love the pleasant cot,
 * I love the innocent bower,

Where white and brown is our lot
 * Or fruit in the mid-day hour.

I love the oaken seat,
 * Beneath the oaken tree,

Where all the old villagers meet,
 * And laugh our sports to see.

I love our neighbours all,
 * But, Kitty, I better love thee;

And love them I ever shall,
 * But thou art all to me.

SONG. EMORY, hither come And tune your merry notes: And while upon the wind
 * Your music floats