Come to the Greenwood Tree

1811 –

1863

      Come to the greenwood tree,
      Come where the dark woods be,
      Dearest, O come with me!
  Let us rove—O my love—O my love!

      Come—'tis the moonlight hour,
      Dew is on leaf and flower,
      Come to the linden bower,—
  Let us rove—O my love—O my love!

  Dark is the wood, and wide
  Dangers, they say, betide;
  But, at my Albert's side,
  Nought I fear, O my love—O my love!

  Welcome the greenwood tree,
  Welcome the forest free,
  Dearest, with thee, with thee,
  Nought I fear, O my love—O my love!

This poem is in the public domain.

William Makepeace Thackeray, born July 18, 1811, was an English writer best known for his novels, particularly The History of Henry Esmond, Esq. (The Mershon Company Publishers, 1852) and Vanity Fair (Bradbury and Evans, 1848). While in school, Thackeray began writing poems, which he published in a number of magazines, chiefly Fraser and Punch. He died on December 24, 1863.

About William Makepeace Thackeray

Themes

Nature

Public Domain

About this Poem

From Ballads and Songs (London: Cassell and Company, 1896).

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At the Zoo

First I saw the white bear, then I saw the black;
Then I saw the camel with a hump upon his back;
Then I saw the grey wolf, with mutton in his maw;
Then I saw the wombat waddle in the straw;
Then I saw the elephant a-waving of his trunk;
Then I saw the monkeys—mercy, how unpleasantly they smelt!

William Makepeace Thackeray

1863

The King of Yvetot

There was a king of Yvetot, Of whom renown hath little said, Who let all thoughts of glory go, And dawdled half his days a-bed; And every night, as night came round, By Jenny, with a nightcap crowned, Slept very sound: Sing ho, ho, ho! and he, he, he! That's the kind of king for me. And every day it came to pass, That four lusty meals made he; And, step by step, upon an ass, Rode abroad, his realms to see; And wherever he did stir, What think you was his escort, sir? Why, an old cur. Sing ho, ho, ho !

William Makepeace Thackeray

2018

The Garret

     With pensive eyes the little room I view,
       Where, in my youth, I weathered it so long;
     With a wild mistress, a stanch friend or two,
       And a light heart still breaking into song:
     Making a mock of life, and all its cares,
       Rich in the glory of my rising sun,
     Lightly I vaulted up four pair of stairs,
       In the brave days when I was twenty-one.

     Yes; 'tis a garret—let him know't who will—
       There was my bed—full hard it was and small.
     My table there—and I decipher still
       Half a lame couplet charcoaled on the wall.
     Ye joys,

William Makepeace Thackeray

2018

Poems

Come to the Greenwood Tree

More by this poet

At the Zoo

The King of Yvetot

The Garret

Poems

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Come to the Greenwood Tree

More by this poet

At the Zoo

The King of Yvetot

The Garret

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