No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, And we cannot go to sleep; Besides in the sky the little birds fly, And the hills are all covered with sheep.
Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, And then go home to bed. The little ones leap’d and shouted and laugh’d; And all the hills echoèd.
[A BOY’S SONG]
Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the grey trout lies asleep, Up the river and o’er the lea, That’s the way for Billy and me.
Where the blackbird sings the latest, Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest Where the nestlings chirp and flee, That’s the way for Billy and me.
Where the mowers mow the cleanest, Where the hay lies thick and greenest; There to trace the homeward bee, That’s the way for Billy and me.
Where the hazel bank is steepest, Where the shadow falls the deepest, Where the clustering nuts fall free, That’s the way for Billy and me.
Why the boys should drive away Little sweet maidens from the play, Or love to banter and fight so well, That’s the thing I never could tell.