THE ECHOING GREEN

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.



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."



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 mothers

Many sisters and brothers,

Like
birds in their nest,

Are ready for rest,

And sport no more seen

On the
darkening green.