MY NEIGHBOUR’ S GARDEN

Why in my neighbour’ s garden

Are the flowers more sweet than mine?

I had never such bloom of roses,

Such yellow and pink woodbine.

Why in my neighbour’ s garden

Are the fruits all red and gold,

While here the grapes are bitter

That hang for my fingers’ hold?

Why in my neighbour’ s garden

Do the birds all fly to sing?

Over the fence between us

One would think’ twas always spring.

I thought my own wide garden

Once more sweet and fair than all,

Till I saw the gold and crimson

Just over my neighbour’ s wall.

But now I want his thrushes,

And now I want his vine,

If I cannot have his cherries

That grow more red than mine.

The serpent’ neath his apples

Will tempt me to my fall,

And then — I’ ll steal my neighbour’ s fruit

Across the garden wall.