Lute Song

What will you send her,
What will you tell her,
That shall unbend her,
That shall compel her?
Love, that shall fold her
So naught can sever;
Truth, that shall hold her
Ever and ever.
What will you do then
So she 'll ne' er grieve you?
Knowing you true then
Never will leave you?
I 'll lay before here,
There in her bower,
Aye to adore her,
My heart like a flower.