Song of the Summer Hours

We happy hearts for nothing are

If not for ringing praises;

A song for Summer, near and far,

From hilltop down to daisies!

We wind her hair with leaves and flowers,

In places green and shady;

We are the happy summer hours,

And Summer is our Lady.

Come, sing with us! the while we run

Is Summer going, going.

Some say she loves the roving sun;

There is no knowing, knowing.