Songs of Summer

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Whenas the mildest month
Of jolly June doth spring,
And gardens green with happy hue
Their famous fruits do bring;
When eke the lustiest time
Reviveth youthly blood,
Then springs the finest featured flower
In border fair that stood.
Which moveth me to say,
In time of pleasant year,
Of all the pleasant flowers in June
The red rose hath no peer.

Haymakers, rakers, reapers, and mowers,
   Wait upon your summer queen.
Dress up with musk-rose her eglantine bowers,
   Daffodils strew the green.
      Sing, dance, and play,
      'Tis holiday.
   The sun does bravely shine
   On our ears of corn.
      Rich as a pearl,
      Comes every girl,
   This is mine, this is mine, this is mine;
Let us die, ere away they be borne.

Bow to the sun, to our queen, and that fair one,
   Come to behold our sports.
Each bonny lass here is counted a rare one,
   As those in princes' courts.
      These and we
      With country glee,
   Will teach the woods to resound
   And the hills with echoes hollow;
      Skipping lambs
      Their bleating dams
   'Mongst kids shall trip it round;
For joy thus our wenches we follow.

Wind, jolly huntsman, your neat bugles shrilly,
   Hounds make a lusty cry;
Spring up, you falconers, the partridges freely,
   Then let your brave hawks fly.
      Horses amain
      Over ridge, over plain,
   The dogs have the stag in chase;
   'Tis a sport to content a king:
      So ho! ho! through the skies
      How the proud bird flies,
   And sousing, kills with a grace.
Now the deer falls; hark! how they ring.