Under the Greenwood Tree

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
cnd 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
cnd loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
cnd pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see
No enemy
But winter and rough weather.