BETWEEN wheatfield and corn,
Between hedgerow and thorn,
Between pasture and tree,
Where's my sweetheart
Tell it me!
Sweetheart caught I
Not at home;
She's then, thought I.
Gone to roam.
Fair and loving
Blooms sweet May;
Sweetheart's roving,
Free and gay.
By the rock near the wave,
Where her first kiss she gave,
On the greensward, to me,--
Something I see!
Is it she?
1812.
