Green are the summer meadows,
Blue is the summer sky,
And the swallows like flickering shadows
Over the tall corn fly.
And the red rose flames on the thicket,
And the red breast sings on the spray,
And the drowsy hum of the cricket
Comes from the new mown hay.
And the morning dewdrops glisten,
And the lark is on the wing,
Ah! how can you stop and listen
To what I have to sing.