Tryptych

Love and harmony combine
And around our souls  intwine
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join.

Joys upon our branches sit,
Chirping loud, and singing sweet;
Like gentle streams beneath our feet
Innocence and virtue meet.

Thou the golden fruit dost bear,
I am clad in flowers fair;
Thy sweet boughs perfume the air,
And the turtle buildeth there

There she sits and feeds her young,
Sweet I hear her mournful song;
And thy lovely leaves among
There is love:  I hear his tongue

I love the [jocund]1 dance, 
The softly breathing song, 
Where innocent eyes do glance,
[And where]2 lisps the maiden's tongue.  

I love the laughing vale, 
I love the echoing [hills]3, 
Where mirth does never fail, 
And the jolly swain laughs his fill. 

I love the pleasant cot,
I love the innocent bow'r,
Where white and brown is our lot,
Or fruit in the midday hour. 

I love the oaken seat,
Beneath the oaken tree,
Where all [the old]4 villagers meet,
And laugh [our]5 sports to see. 

I love our neighbors all,
But Kitty, I [better love thee]6;
And love them [I ever]7  shall;
But thou art all to me.