The Echoing Green

The sun does arise,

And make happy the skies;

The merry bells

To welcome the spring;

The skylark and thrush,

The birds of the bush,

Sing louder

To the bell's cheerful sound,

While our sports shall be

On the Echoing 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

When we all, girls and boys,

In our youth time were

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

Many sisters and brother,

Like birds in their nest,

Are ready for rest,

And sport no more

On the darkening Green.