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The sun does arise |
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And make happy the skies |
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The merry bells ring |
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To welcome the spring |
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The skylark and the thrush |
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Birds of the bush |
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Sing louder around |
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To the bells cheerful sound |
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While our sports shall be seen |
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On the echoing green |
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Old John with white hair |
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Does laugh away care |
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Sitting under the oak |
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Among the old folk |
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They laugh at our play |
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And soon they all say |
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Such, such were the joys |
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When all, girls and boys |
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In our youth-time were seen |
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On the echoing green |
|
In our youth-time were seen |
|
On the echoing green |
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Till the little ones weary |
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No more can be merry |
|
The sun does descend |
|
Sports have an end |
|
Round the laps of their mother |
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Many sisters and brothers |
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Like birds in their nest |
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Ready for rest |
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And sport no more seen |
|
On the darkening green |
|
Sports no more seen |
|
On the darkening green |
