In summer woods
John Ireland, James Vila Blake
How jubilant the summer sky
When turtle doves and cuckoos cry
And when in wild and leafy wood
The song of nightingale is heard
We wander in the shady grove
And where red berries are we rove;
The ousel pipes his music low
And finches drum upon the bough
Beside the blackcap vine we stay
On tender moss where shadows play
And flitting by, the cuckoo's brood
Go babbling through the leafy wood