When your garden is wet with the morning dew, I will lie in the naked grass with you,
Fill my head with nature’s thick perfume, as the blushing sun throws it scarlet hues across the sky,
And all creation groans,
I sing to you my song of songs.
When your fruit is heavy on the vine, I will take a long, long drink of wine,
Until my captured heart cries out your name and flutters like a songbird in a cage.
And you are mine, safe where you belong,
And I sing to you my song of songs.
And so who is this, like rosy dawn, moving softly like a rising fawn?
Trailing starlight as she runs,
Fair as the moon, bright as the sun,
She is my bride; I’ve come to take her home,
And I will sing to you my song of songs,
And I will sing to you my song of songs.
