Hither when I see to stray

Her pink dress

With her flock round it prest

As she were a rose in snow:

Then my heart within my breast

Like a lamb to and fro

On a hill of green doth play

For happiness.

Meward when I hear her sing

And impress

All sweet airs that do flow

Round her head with airs more sweet:

Little songs my heart doth blow,

Gay and glad, half-complete,

Like the snatches piped by spring

For happiness.