Under the Greenwood Tree

If you've read couple of my last posts, then you would know why I love this song of Shakespeare's.
The more of crap you see in buzzing families, this song beckons me.
I repeat it to myself, and even when I was falling in love with Plettenberg it use to ring in my head;
''Come hither, come hither,''
There's so much in it beside the charm of it, it reminds me of so many things, especially books like Baker's Hawk.
Its an open window whispering to you to leave the stuffiness of it all and go with the breezes.

Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune 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 pleas'd with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither;
Here shall he see,
No enemy,
But Winter and rough weather.