Come for Arbutus

Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear:
The pink waxen blossoms are waking, I hear;
We'll gather an armful of fragrant wild cheer.
Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear,
Come for arbutus, my dear.

Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear;
Come through the gray meadow, and pass the black weir,
To brown-margined forest, and part the leaves sere.
Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear,
Come for arbutus, my dear.

Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear;
We'll gather the first virgin bloom of the year,
The blush of spring kisses with coral lips near.
Come for arbutus, my dear, my dear,
Come for arbutus, my dear.

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