Leave Your Tender... Poem by robert dickerson

Leave your tender lambs, my friend
and leave your bailing hay-
all your labors end
and come with me this yellow day
down to the olive grove
to dally and make love,
dally and make love.

There beneath the august trees'
silvery canopy
we shall study ease
follow up the downy sky
the swallows' zigzag path
sing and sip and laugh,
sing, sip and laugh.

There along the lawns we'll lay
and feed each other kisses
all the livelong day
with many tender pulls and presses
there we shall devise
in lovers' paradise
a lovers' paradise.

Cricket will furbish music and
the diva nightingale
lavishly will spend
her sentiments upon the vale
so high up overhead
from where we'll make our bed
from where we'll make our bed.

Laughing love will foison us
excellent provider)
excellent provender
from his draughty horn
we'll tipple hours without number
never knowing fill
tasting at will.

There is a day the heavens send
entirely for lovers-
when the corn is in-
before the summers' longest hour-
believe me its today-
Come with me this day.
I will show the way.