Classic Poem

Aye, at times on summer evenings,
It was there for one sweet hour
That we met for mirth and music,
On the green beside the bower,
Ere as yet the flitting blackbird
Still'd her singing for the night,
Or the evening shed its dew-drops
In the lily's cup of white.
By ones or twos, two or one,
We sang and play'd our music
Out before the evening sun.

There were young men spry and comely
That could sound a pipe or string;
There were maidens fair and merry
That could sweetly chat or sing.
There were young men smart and witty,
There was many a maiden tongue,
With a voice in talk or laughter
All as sweet as when it sung.
By ones or twos, two or one,
We sang and play'd our music
Out before the evening sun.

Down at mill the yellow sunlight
Brightly glared on window glass,
And the red cows' sides were gilded
In the field of flow'ry grass.
And with us the sunny lands
All around were fair to see
And each beating heart was merry,
And each tongue alive with glee,
As one and all, all and one,
Enjoyed the mirth and music
Out before the summer sun.