The argument of his book

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,

Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers;

I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,

Of bridegrooms, brides and of their bridal-cakes;

I write of youth, of love, and have access

By these to sing of cleanly wantonness;

I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece

Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris;

I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write

How roses first came red and lilies white;

I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing

The court of Mab, and of the fairy king;

I write of Hell; I sing (and ever shall)

Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.