Ere the evening parts
when kindred souls consort
lives and fortunes are sorted
upon they breast
I shall rest
until the shadows they do depart
Through the wood
thee I will seek
thy heart is true and wondrous good
among the oaks and hares so meek
come upon fields of musk and roses
it is thy hand that I shall seek
on the heather our love reposes
the wind whispers coyly
branches and twigs rustle and sigh
under a canopy so lightly
a lover's knot I pray we tie

the apache kid