WHEN THE ASH AND OAK, AND THE BIRCH AND YEW * ARE DRESSED IN RIBBONS FAIR
WHEN OWLS CALL THE BREATHLESS MOON * IN THE BLUE VEIL OF THE NIGHT *
THE SHADOWS OF THE TREES APPEAR *
AMIDST THE LANTERN LIGHT
WE'VE BEEN RAMBLING ALL THE NIGHT * AND SOME TIME OF THIS DAY *
NOW RETURNING BACK AGAIN * WE BRING A GARLAND GAY
WHO WILL GO DOWN TO THOSE SHADY GROVES * AND SUMMON THE SHADOWS THERE *
AND TIE A RIBBON ON THOSE SHELTERING ARMS * IN THE SPRINGTIME OF THE YEAR
THE SONGS OF BIRDS SEEM TO FILL THE WOOD * THAT WHEN THE FIDDLER PLAYS *
ALL THEIR VOICES CAN BE HEARD *
LONG PAST THEIR WOODLAND DAYS
AND SO THEY LINKED THEIR HANDS AND DANCED * ROUND IN CIRCLES AND IN ROWS *
AND SO THE JOURNEY OF THE NIGHT DESCENDS * WHEN ALL THE SHADES ARE GONE
"A GARLAND GAY WE BRING YOU HERE * AND AT YOUR DOOR WE STAND *
IT IS A SPROUT WELL BUDDED OUT *
THE WORK OF OUR LORD'S HAND"
