Love is the immortal souls delight
For " God is love" we see
I love His seasons day and night
His world so fair and free
The evening breeze and morning gale
And Gods own masterpiece
Woman! Thy joys can never fail
Our pleasures to increase

2

I loved sweet woman from a boy
They are Gods types o' love
Wi' bosoms white all full o' joy
Wafting our thoughts above

I love the rath primroses pale brimstone primroses
That bloom in the thick wood and i' the green closes
I love the primroses whenever they come
Where the blue fly sits pensive & humble bees hum
The pale brimstone primroses come at the spring
Swept over and fann'd by the wild thrushes wing
Bow'd down to the leaf cover'd ground by the bees
Who sing their spring ballads thro bushes & trees

2

Like patches o' flame i' the Ivy so green

Oh come to him who loves thee best
Oh come to him who loves thee
Thy bosom be his place of rest
Thine eyes like heaven above thee
Oh come to him that loves thee best
My Susan come to him
Wi gown as crimson as the west
Straw hat and ribbons trim

2

The dew is on the primrose pale
And on the white thorn buds
Oh come wi me and walk the vale
And honeysuckle woods
Let thy young spirit fancy me
With mine the hours employ
As one let us together be
All happiness! All joy!

3

I met my love in summer days
On Sundays in the morn
And prov'd it in a thousand ways
While walking through the corn
I pull'd her as she stept the stile
Back just to kiss her cheek
She just rebuk'd me by a smile
I felt it all the week.

2

With stick before I beat the dew
Where heavy laid the grain
For black and glossy was her shoe
Her new gown without stain
I put the envious brier away
That dangled for her sleeve
And cut the bramble from the spray
That they no wounds might leave.

3

There are days to remember
Whose sunshine hath set
Where loves dying ember
But kindles regret
How aches the fond bosom
To look on the past
Where Edens gates close em
On joys first & last
& now unreposing
On the world we are cast

Vetches; both yellow, and blue,
Grew thick in the meadow lane,
Isabellas shawl kept off the dew,
As thickly upon her it came,
A thorn bush caught her umbrella,
As though it would bid her to stay,
But the loving, and loved Isabella,
Went laughing, and walking away.

Arise, my Isabel, arise,
The sun shoots forth his early ray,
The hue of love, is in the skies,
The birds are singing, come away!
Oh come! my Isabella come!
With inky tendrils, hanging low,
Thy cheeks like hedge rose, just in bloom,
That in the healthy summer glow.
2

That eye it turns the world away
From wanton ways, & recklessness,
That eye beams with a cheerful ray,
And smiles propitiously to bless,
Oh come! my Isabella dear!
Oh come! and fill these longing arms,
Come let me see thy beauty here,

The path that led across the fiel
Foot printed, dry, and clean,
Crept snake like in its trail,
Through meadows crisp, and green;
I hung upon my sweethearts arm,
Whose face was red, and bonny,
He said, as love began to warm:
He loved me best o' ony.

2

He said so, as he wiped away,
The hair upon his brow,
It was the happy first o' May
And I'd just milked the cow,
The rose just peeped, and on the brere,
It scented blithe, and bonny;
He softly said, my Mary dear
I love you best o' ony.

3

I peeled bits o straws and I got switches too
From the grey peeling Willow as Idlers do
And I switched at the flyes as I sat all alone
Till my flesh blood & marrow wasted to dry bone
My illness was love though I knew not the smart
But the beauty o love was the blood o my heart

Crowded places I shunned them as noises to[o] rude
And flew to the silence of sweet solitude
Where the flower in green darkness, buds, blossoms & fades
Unseen of a shepherds & flower loving maids
The hermit bees find them but once & away

Twas i' the morning early
The dew was on the barley
Each hours a string o beads
Blue caps intensely blue
Corn poppys burnt me through
Seemed flowers among the weeds.

Where I met young Mary Boyfield
And did loves dearest joy feel
As she passed me i the corn
Her gown brushed gently by me
And love that could not flye me
Shone like the dewey morn.

Her cheeks the rosey breres bloom
Her eyes like ripples lately come
From gravel paving Spring
She looked accross the red & blue
Each colour wore a livelier hue