To Miss W


The wild hedge-rose it blooms so fair
Upon the stem so briery
And grows the very likeness there
Of her I call my deary
The self same bloom is in her face
As that within the blossom
Its eye of gold, like pin of grace
Is that upon her bosom.


The wild hedge rose how sweet it smells
Upon the evening tree
Will Jane now seek the heather dells
And crop the flower with me
Its blush is on her lovely cheek
Its gold eye on her breast
'Tis eaten in an apple streak
And on loves bosom press't —


It buds among the briars in May
And opens in the June
Will Jane now go the wild wood way
And meet the silver moon
Say will you go the wild wood way
At evenings dewy close
And talk a pleasant hour away
And love the wild-hedge-rose
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