Poem for the day

'Under the greenwood tree'

Under the greenwood tree
Who loves to lie with me,
And turn his merry note
Unto the sweet birds 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' th' sun,
Seeking the food he eats,
And pleased with what he gets,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:

    Here shall he see
    No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)

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