| lyric | Let us wander, not unseen,
By the elms, on hillocks green,
While the ploughman, near at hand,
Whistles o’er the furrow’d land,
And the milkmaid singeth blithe,
And the mower whets his scythe.
And the shepherd tells his tale,
Beneath the hawthorn in the dale.
Let us wander, not unseen,
By the elms, on hillocks green,
While the ploughman, near at hand,
Whistles o’er the furrow’d land, |