The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter,
   The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
   There are forty feeding like one!
					
Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
   The Plowboy is whooping-anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
   The rain is over and gone!