Classic Poem

How sweet 'tis to play,
In the green fields in May,
Beneath the tall trees,
Or after school hours,
To pluck the sweet flowers,
And feel the fresh breeze!

How pleasant to look
In the murmuring brook,
And hear its soft sound!
How happy are we!
How nimble and free,
We skip o'er the ground!

Now gone is the light;
Now comes the dark night;
All still is the vale.
We'll go to our rest,
Nor wake till redbreast,
Renews his soft tale.