Meet Me in the Green Glen

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Love, meet me in the green glen,
 Beside the tall elm-tree,
Where the sweetbriar smells so sweet agen;
 There come with me.
  Meet me in the green glen.

Meet me at the sunset
 Down in the green glen,
Where we’ve often met
 By hawthorn-tree and foxes’ den,
  Meet me in the green glen.

Meet me in the green glen,
 By sweetbriar bushes there;
Meet me by your own sen,
 Where the wild thyme blossoms fair.
  Meet me in the green glen.

Meet me by the sweetbriar,
 By the mole-hill swelling there;
When the west glows like a fire
 God’s crimson bed is there.
  Meet me in the green glen.

© John Clare