As light do gleäre in ev'ry ground, field

Wi’ boughy hedges out a-round

A-climmèn up the slopèn brows climbing

O’ hills, in rows o’ sheädy boughs:

The while the hawthorn buds do blow

As thick as stars, an’ white as snow;

Or cream-white blossoms be a-spread

About the guelder-rwoses’ head;

How cool's the sheäde, or warm's the lewth, shelter

Bezide a zummer hedge in blooth. bloom

When we've a-work'd drough longsome hours, through

Till dew's a-dried vrom dazzlèn flow'rs,

The while the climmèn zun ha’ glow'd

Drough mwore than half his daily road:

Then where the sheädes do slily pass shadows

Athirt our veet upon the grass, across

As we do rest by lofty ranks

Ov elems on the flow'ry banks;

How cool's the sheäde, or warm's the lewth,

Bezide a zummer hedge in blooth.

But oh! below woone hedge's zide one

Our jaÿ do come a-most to pride; joy

Out where the high-stemm'd trees do stand, tall-trunked

In row bezide our own free land,

An’ where the wide-leav'd clote mid zwim yellow water-lily, may

'Ithin our water's rushy rim:

An’ raïn do vall, an’ zuns do burn,

An’ each in season, and in turn,

To cool the sheäde or warm the lewth

Ov our own zummer hedge in blooth.

How soft do sheäke the zummer hedge—

How soft do sway the zummer zedge—

How bright be zummer skies an’ zun—

How bright the zummer brook do run;

An’ feäir the flowers do bloom, to feäde

Behind the swaÿen mower's bleäde;

An’ sweet be merry looks o’ jaÿ,

By weäles an’ pooks o’ June's new haÿ, ridges and cones

Wi’ smilèn age, an laughèn youth,

Bezide the zummer hedge in blooth.