The Echoing Green

"What shall I bring you?
Please will white do
Best for your wearing
The long day through?"
" - White is for weddings,
Weddings, weddings,
White is for weddings,
And that won't do. - "

"What shall I bring you?
Please will red do
Best for your wearing
The long day through?"
" - Red is for soldiers,
Soldiers, soldiers,
Red is for soldiers
And that won't do. - "

"What shall I bring you?
Please will blue do
Best for your wearing
The long day through?"
" - Blue is for sailors,
Sailors, sailors,
Blue is for sailors,
And that won't do. - "

"What shall I bring you?
Please will green do
Best for your wearing
The long day through?"
" - Green is for mayings,
Mayings, mayings,
Green is for mayings,
And that won't do. - "

"What shall I bring you
Then? Will black do
Best for your wearing
The long day through?"
" - Black is for mourning,
Mourning, mourning,
Black is for mourning,
And black will do. - "

O Thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro' the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! 

The hills tell each other, and the list'ning
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.

Come o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.

O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
Thy golden crown upon her languish'd head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee.

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.

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and [bid]1 thee feed,
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is callèd by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild:
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are callèd by His name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Sweet dreams, form a shade
[O'er]1 my lovely infant's head,
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams,
By happy, silent, moony beams.

Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown;
Sweet Sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child.

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight.
Sweet smiles, mother's [smiles]2,
All the livelong night [beguiles]3.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from [thy]4 eyes!
Sweet [moans]5, sweeter [smiles]2,
All the dovelike moans [beguiles]3.

Sleep, sleep, happy child:
All creation slept and smiled.
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee [thy]6 mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace;
Sweet babe, once like thee
Thy maker lay and wept for me,

Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When he was an infant small.
Thou his image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee --

Smiles on thee, on me, on all,
Who became an infant small,
Infant smiles are his own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.