After church

Yes, May and I are friends,

Lovers, many have said;

For down the lane and o'er the lea

To church we often tread,

In that careless sort of way,

That leads to love, they say;

And after church we often search

For garlands by the way.

Yes, May and I are friends,

And something more, they say;

Because along the curved strand,

Where we sat the other day,

I simply wrote her name,

And wrote it o'er again;

When after church we stopped to search

For shells along the main.

More than friends are we,

My bonny May and I;

At least that's what our neighbors say

Whene'er they pass us by,

They smile and wink their eye,

And set their necks awry:

When after church we stop to search

For heart's ease, May and I.