In A Herber Green Asleep Whereas I Lay

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In a herber green asleep whereas I lay,
  The birds sang sweet in the middle of the day;
  I dreamed fast of mirth and play:
  In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.

Methought I walked still to and fro,
  And from her company I could not go;
  But when I wak'd it was not so:
  In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.

Therefore my heart is surely pight
  Of her alone to have a sight,
  Which is my joy and heart's delight:
  In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure.

© Robert Wever