[Go seek her out all courteously,]

Go seek her out all courteously,
  And say I come,
Wind of spices whose song is ever
  Epithalamium.
O, hurry over the dark lands
  And run upon the sea
For seas and lands shall not divide us
  My love and me.

Now, wind, of your good courtesy
  I pray you go,
And come into her little garden
  And sing at her window;
Singing: The bridal wind is blowing
  For Love is at his noon;
And soon will your true love be with you,
  Soon, O soon.

Published in Chamber Music

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