Thou the golden fruit dost bear, 9
I am clad in flowers fair ;
Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
And the turtle buildeth there.
There she sits and feeds her young, 13
Sweet I hear her mournful song ;
And thy lovely leaves among,
There is love, I hear her tongue.
There his charming nest doth lay, 17
There he sleeps the night away ;
There he sports along the day.
And doth among our branches play.
16. her] An obvious misprint for 'his.' All Blake's editors make the necessary correction.17 charming . . . lay,] charm'd nest he doth lay, DGR.
Song
I love the jocund dance, 1
The softly-breathing song,
Where innocent eyes do glance,
And where lisps the maiden's tongue.
I love the laughing vale, 5
I love the echoing hill,
Where mirth does never fail,
And the jolly swain laughs his fill.
I love the pleasant cot, 9
I love the innocent bow'r.
Where white and brown is our lot,
Or fruit in the mid-day hour.
I love the oaken seat, 13
Beneath the oaken tree,
Where all the old villagers meet.
And laugh our sports to see.
Poetical Sketches, p. 13.
4. And where] Where DGR.5 vale] gale Malk.
