Thee I love more than the meadow so green and still More than the mulberries on the hill More than the buds of a May apple tree I love thee Arms have I, strong as the oak for this occasion Lips have I, to kiss thee, too, in friendly persuasion Thee is mine though I don't know many words of praise Thee pleasures me in a hundred ways Put on your bonnet, your cape, and your glove And come with me, for thee I love Friendly persuasion Thee is mine though I don't know many words of praise Thee pleasures me in a hundred ways Put on your bonnet, your cape, and your glove And come with me, for thee I love