Under the Greenwood tree

Under the greenwood tree
who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note

           Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither!
           Here shall he see
           No enemy
But winter and rough weather.
Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i'the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets-

Come hither, come hither, come hither.
           Here shall he see
           No enemy
But winter and rough weather

                                           Written by:
                                                        William shakespeare