The Echoing Green

The sun does arise,

And make happy the skies.

The merry bells ring

To welcome the spring.

The skylark and thrush.

The birds of the bush,

Sing louder around

To the bells' cheerful sound,

While our sports shall be seen

On the echoing green.

Till the little ones weary

No more can be merry :

The sun does descend,

And our sports have an end

Round the laps of their mother

Many sister and brother,

Like birds in their nest,

Are sport no more seen

On the darkening green.

Old John with white hair

Does laugh away care,

Sitting under the oak,

Among the old folk.

They laugh at our play,

And soon they all say :

'Such, such were the joys

When we all, girls and boys,

In our youth-time were seen

On the echoing green.'