Sweet is the violet, th' scented pea,
Haunted by red-legged, sable bee,
But sweeter far than all to me
Is she I love so dearly;
Than perfumed pea and sable bee,
The face I love so dearly.
Sweeter than hedgerow violets blue,
Than apple blossoms' streaky hue,
Or black-eyed bean-flower blebbed with dew
Is she I love so dearly;
Than apple flowers or violets blue
Is she I love so dearly.
Than woodbine upon branches thin,
The clover flower, all sweets within,
Which pensive bees do gather in,
Three times as sweet, or nearly,
Is the cheek, the eye, the lip, the chin
Of her I love so dearly.