When the sloe-tree is as white as a sheet,
Sow your barley, whether it be dry or wet.
No weather is ill
If the wind be still.
Winter's thunder
Is summer's wonder.
St. Swithin's day, if thou dost rain,
For forty days it will remain;
St. Swithin's day, if thou be fair,
For forty days 'twill rain na mair.
The bat begins with giddy wing
His circuit round the shed and tree;
And clouds of dancing gnats to sing
A summer night's serenity.
At New Year's tide,
The days are lengthened a cock's stride.
If the red sun begins his race,
Expect that rain will fall apace.
The evening red, the morning gray,
Are certain signs of a fair day.
If woolly fleeces spread the heavenly way,
No rain, be sure, disturbs the summer's day.