Hark to the song of
The summer to come,
The deep-throated thrum
That's as welcome as bumblebees
The summer to come,
The deep-throated thrum
That's as welcome as bumblebees
See how the sleepers
Are quaking and waking,
No, I'm not mistaken:
They're breaking out daily.
Are quaking and waking,
No, I'm not mistaken:
They're breaking out daily.
The greenery rattles,
The shade loses thatch,
As a million grand schemes
They are starting to hatch.
The shade loses thatch,
As a million grand schemes
They are starting to hatch.
In the gaze of the sun
There are things to be done,
And plots to be spun
Now that next door's begun.
There are things to be done,
And plots to be spun
Now that next door's begun.
Yes, the ode of the mower,
The whack of the hatchet,
Says winter is over
In blade-breaking racket.
The whack of the hatchet,
Says winter is over
In blade-breaking racket.
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