Nine to the virgin and one to the Lord!
The pearls are ten times one to behold,
And ten times nine are the beads of gold,
Methinks ’tis hard of the friar to ask
On a night like this so weary a task!
’Tis pleasant—’tis pleasant, in summer time,
In the green wood to spell the storied rhyme,
When the light winds above ’mong the light leaves are singing,
And the song of the birds thro’ your heart is ringing,
’Tis pleasant—’tis pleasant, when happily humming