The corn is in the ear,
And the prime is on the year
And blossoms every where,
Sweet scent the early morning:
The summer is in flower,
And the soft refreshing shower
Scents the breezes every hour,
But most at early morning.


The brook runs down the dale,
And the cuckoo tells her tale,
And the happy nightingale
Sings the song of early morning;
On the bank the hawthorn green,
Hides the linnet's nest unseen,
While sweet the blossom'd bean
Perfumes the early morning.


The maiden seeks her cow,
And the ploughman holds his plough,
And from the woods dark brow
Sweet comes the sounds of morning;
On the powdered woodland oaks,
The glossy raven croaks,
And the lonely wo[o]dman's strokes,
Sound loud at early morning.


The corn is in the ear,
And 'tis summer every where,
The prime of all the year,
That scents the early morning;
The water clear and blue,
With its lilies shining through,
And the long grass gem'd with dew
Proclaim the summer morning.
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