Now wakes at morning’s slender ray,

Wild and gay, the blackbird’s song.

Now comes the bird of dusty hue,

The loud cuckoo, the summer-lover;

Branching trees are thick with leaves;

The bitter, evil time is over.

Swift horses gather nigh

Where half dry the river goes;

Tufted heather crowns the height;

Weak and white the bogdown blows.

Corncrake sings from eve till morn,

Deep in corn, a strenuous bard!

Sings the virgin waterfall,

White and tall, her one sweet word.

[49]

Loaded bees of little power

Goodly flower-harvest win;

Cattle roam with muddy flanks;

Busy ants go out and in.

Through the wild harp of the wood

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