A Bucolic Invitation

I’ll build a bower for my love
And in its shade with her shall live.
A mystic apple tree in bloom
Will thatch our secret lovers’ room,
And climbing roses weave the walls
To scent the air when evening falls.
Here loving spirits will abide
And friendly deities preside.
King Time shall wield no sway nor might
In this our arbour of delight.
Like honeysuckle we’ll entwine
And in pale cups of columbine
Life’s nectar drink and pleasures take
And all our worldly cares forsake.
Our green oasis will conceal
The sweet emotions lovers feel
And be a school for all those arts
That lovers share with kindred hearts.
So come, my Love, and stay with me
Within the bower I build for thee,
And, in this blessed month of May,
All Life’s tomorrows live today.