Love Song

My love, we will go, we will go, I and you
And away in the woods we will scatter the dew;
And the salmon behold, and the ousel too
My love, we will hear, I and you, we will hear
The calling afar of the doe and the deer
And the bird in the branches will cry for us clear
And the cuckoo unseen in his festival mood;
And death, oh my fair one, will never come near
In the bosom afar of the fragrant wood