I loved a lass, a fair one, As fair as e`er was seen; she was indeed a rare one, But, fine as another Sheba queen..

Come into the garden,
My friend,
For the black bat,
Night,
Has flown.
Come into the garden,
My friend,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the rose is blown.