The Thrush sings loud today:
"Come Linnet, oh come let us hasten away!
The flow'rs have a dance in the deep mossy shade.
Come quickly dear Linnet, we'll fly to the glade!

"And there in the branches hidden 
make festive music unbidden,
and watch afar how they dance through the hours,
I do love the beautiful flowers!"

Then swiftly the wo did fly;
away to the wood and they cheerily cry!
"Now Linnet and Thrush, come, ah dance with a will
sweet flow'rs that are standing so shyly and still!"

Then sweetly the birds are singing,
the woods all jubilant ringing,
and gaily dance all the flow'rets so fair.
With measureless merriment there!

The joyous day is past,
and Linnet and Thrush they fly homeward at last;
the dancing is over, the flower petals close,
and softly the breeze of the evening blows.

Afar where the shadows are falling,
the Thrush is merrily calling:
"How swift have passed all the midsummer hours.
I do love the beautiful flowers!"