The Echoing Green

The sun does arise

And make happy the skies

The merry bells ring

To welcome the spring

The skylark and the thrush

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 all, girls and boys

In our youth-time were seen

On the echoing green

In our youth-time were seen

On the echoing green



Till the little ones weary

No more can be merry

The sun does descend

Sports have an end

Round the laps of their mother

Many sisters and brothers

Like birds in their nest

Ready for rest

And sport no more seen

On the darkening green

Sports no more seen

On the darkening green