Classic Poem

Fly to the Forest my lovely maid
The prickly Holly shall be our cottage shade
We'll both be glad this Christmas day
While I hold in my arms sweet Susan Grey

The Cottage is cold the Palace is rude
Green christmas is warm in sweet solitude
We've no pride to conquor or subdue
Nature is fair when my Susans true

Then fly to the forest sweet Susan & dwell
Neath the boughs of Holly in secluded dell
For under the tree My susan allows
To kiss her brown cheek neath Missletoe boughs

Fly to the forest love fly with me
On the grass and the moss our bed shall be
Neath the red berried Holly our Cot we'll fix
And make our fire of the rotten sticks

Fly to the forest my Susan and be
The lov'd and the loving wi nature & me
I'll take thee to my bosom & kiss thy brown cheek
And love thee my susan every day o' the week

From Sunday to Sunday my Susan I'll please
Nor e'er do a rude thing her fondness to teaze
In the brown winter forest I'll court all the day
And love my young gipsey the sweet Susan Grey