William Blake
The jocund dance
I love the jocund dance
The softly breathing song
Where innocent eyes do glance
And where lisps the maiden's tongue
I love the laughing vale
I love the echoing hills
Where mirth does never fail
And the jolly swain laughs his fill
I love the pleasant cot
I love the innocent bow'r
Where white and brown is our lot
Or fruit in the midday 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 neighbors all
But Kitty, I better love thee;
And love them I ever shall;
But thou art all to me